Detour
by knirbenrots
Summary: When Hetty decides to become the hunter instead of the hunted, the team has to come to her rescue once again. Will they be in time and all return home safely?
1. Chapter 1

**Detour, chapter 1**

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><p><em>Welcome in here. Feel free to start reading and please do leave a review!<em>

Disclaimer: This storyline is all mine, but I do not own the main characters of NCIS Los Angeles. They belong to CBS & Shane Brennan.

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><p>When Hetty decides to become the hunter instead of the hunted, the team has to come to her rescue once again.<br>Will they be in time and all return home safely?

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><p>The smirk never left his face. For the past twenty minutes Sam had been muttering about getting carsick riding shotgun.<br>In fact, he had done so earlier this morning when Callen had picked him up.  
>And right now, both of them were returning to the office after a short investigation from a crime scene at Los Verdes golf course, where two officers were found murdered.<p>

"What's troubling you, buddy? Next time you comment on my driving skills, I'll throw you out of this car. Bet you'll be begging me to have you back in here instead of enjoying public transport. Or wait, I could partner you up with Kensi and let her drive. So just tell me what's bothering you or else walk your way back to the office. And remember, the day isn't over yet."

"G, seriously. This driving of yours is… how shall I say. I love life and I do want to return home tonight," Sam said. It looked as if his large hand tried to push all the way through the dashboard while the other desperately held on to the passenger door.

"Not my fault you parked your car right in the middle of a shooting. Next time find a better place so your precious babe will be around all the time."

Sam sent a dangerous smile at his partner. "It saved your skinny butt from being shot, remember?"

His partner didn't answer as he concentrated on the busy road near Hawthorn. Sam continued. "And then you nearly landed that drone on the Challenger as well. Three whole days G. Three whole days with you driving."

"Meaning you have to give up control, right? It's not about the driving. It's because you're not the one in control. Just confess." He then accelerated, faster than usual just to tease his partner. "Now if you don't shut up I'm gonna ask Nell if she's willing to take you home this afternoon

Just then his phone chirped. Callen pressed the speaker and Deeks' voice came in, cheerful as ever.  
>"Boys, the Kenz-woman and I are on our way back to Head Quarterzzz. We just visited the Navy Trauma Training Center where this mister Jeremiah Vanderhoog should have been around, like he was every single day. Till now. And guess what? From what we heard this guy never visited a golf course before. So, it appears the two of you had an 'exclusive', messieurs."<p>

"Cut the crap Deeks," Sam interrupted. "We get the idea. For your information, it was clear that both Jeremiah Vanderhoog and Frederic White were killed at another location. At least, that is what these guys of the forensic unit told us. There was hardly any blood found at the crime scene."

As ever, Deeks found a way to retort. "Which practically isn't a crime scene. If that what you just told is correct. True?"

Through the speaker Deeks heard three sighs, simultaneously. The loudest one came from Kensi, driving the car. "I get it. So, as I was saying. Will you be at Ops as well?"

"In a minute, Deeks," Callen spoke as he accelerated just a bit more.

o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)

**NCIS Office of Special Projects || Los Angeles**

"Right. Well, I don't mind driving with Deeks. Sure about it?" Callen raised his brow when they entered the building. "Yours for the next round." He took the keys of the Mercedes and tossed them up, knowing Sam was going to catch them anyway.

"As if you'd be able to hang out with him for over an hour," Sam smiled.

From behind his desk, the younger man heard them speak. "Hang on. Who's hanging out with who. And will I wanna hang out anyway?"

Callen simply shook his head, figuring this case would probably be solved from behind their desks instead of in the field.  
>When he finally had dropped his bag near the desk and opened his laptop, he looked up at the large corner where their operations manager had her desk. He quickly glanced at his watch. At 2 in the afternoon the place still looked awfully quiet.<p>

"The little Ninja wasn't around when we entered," Deeks nearly whispered. He had noticed the lead agent's gaze. While he spoke, he was looking around nervously at the same time, knowing the tiny supervisor might show up from anywhere anytime.

Kensi added to that "When I came in this morning she wasn't in here either."

Sam stopped going checking the files in his inbox and looked up. "That's right. Now you mention it, I noticed that as well."

"Right. Time to check with the wonder twins, see what they know." Having said that, Callen stood up and jogged upstairs.


	2. Chapter 2

**chapter 2**

**Detour**

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><p><em>Thanks for the lovely reviews you left on the first chapter!<em>

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><p>"She mostly does come up here when she knows we are around and she hasn't shown up, now you mention it."<br>Nell looked up at the team leader once she realized something was off indeed. "You think she called in sick? Perhaps we should check at HR?"

Callen shook his head. "She would have told you or us. How about a phone call from you? Let us know if she answers." He then turned to Deeks and Kensi. "And instead of waiting in here, we could check her houses. Could you take the Courtney Avenue house and the Roosevelt Loft at the Seventh? Sam and I will be at Palora Street and the beach house."  
>He let out a deep sigh and nodded to his partner before he headed to the sliding doors.<p>

"Callen?" Nell's voice sounded soft. "Do find her and bring her back, please."

Gentler now he smiled at her. "Sure we will Nell."

o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)

Automatically he had entered the car at the passenger side and while Sam was adjusting the driver's seat comfortably enough for his posture, Callen simply stared out of the window. "No 'agent in distress' message, not calling in. Not her way," he more or less stated.

"You think we should've called director Vance?" Sam asked.

Callen glanced at his partner, thinking about this thing too. "Thought crossed my mind. I mean, Granger is recovering nicely in his New Orleans property with his high heeled blondie and I don't want him to interfere in here. But Vance? Maybe."

"A blonde babe? What do you know about the assistant director that I don't?" Sam reduced speed and let the grey Mercedes come to a halt at the traffic lights, then eyed his partner, curious if there was an answer coming or not. He quietly smiled, thinking his younger partner definitely had taken some lessons with Hetty – mentioning something he knew but never revealing his resources.

"Long story, Sam. Never mind." He sank back a little further in the comfortable car chair and paused a second. Then he looked his partner in the eyes. "Are you worried Sam? 'Cuz I am. Call it a gut feeling."

Gearing up now he and the cars in front of him finally got a green light, Sam let this remark sink. In the seven years he and Callen had been partnered up, he'd learned to trust Callen's gut feeling.  
>Perhaps even more than the man himself did, since Callen was the one who attracted danger. And Callen was the one who would easily give his life knowing it were to safe others. Too many times it had been Sam who had to tell his partner that his own life counted as well, times when Callen had shown his vulnerability because his own past hunted him.<p>

"And to be honest, no, so far I haven't been worried, G. I thought it was just an easy way to escape another case someone else could solve as well," he tried, lightly.

Just when Callen was about to retort just as lightly, his phone chirped. Callen grabbed it from his jacket and recognized the number. "Eric, what have you got?"

-"Hetty's phones. I mean, well, we haven't got it. It's that we called the numbers—"

"Wait. Numbers?" Sam interrupted. It made Callen raise his brow, surprised that the senior agent who sat next to him didn't know.

"As if your only phone number is the one of your cell phone buddy. There's the 213 number too, and I do know Michelle's number as well." He shrugged and then said "Go on, Eric."

-"She doesn't answer the Roosevelt or the Palisades number," the Tech answered carefully.

Callen nodded, knowing there was more to know. "And her cell phone's off, right?"

-"Dead as can be," Eric sounded relieved, glad he didn't have to tell it himself.

Callen quickly let his thoughts go and said "Tell the others too, Eric. Keep in touch and see if you can backtrack her movements from the moment on she left the building after we all left Saturday afternoon."

Their team had been assisting DEA early Saturday morning when a cartel member was spotted near a water plant, threatening to poison the water. The situation had been in control soon after and all of them left before 4 PM. All, including Hetty. Which was about 48 hours ago.

"Hell… think of all that can happen in 48 hours." Callen considered.

o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)

**Volgodonsk, Western Russia || Ul. Luchezarnaya 14**

She sat in one of the comfortable chairs in the small living room.  
>Even now, when Henrietta Lange felt she made a terrible mistake coming here, she looked relaxed and in a strange way still in charge.<p>

Next to her chair, two broad men stood still as statues, guarding the tiny older lady. She had no idea if these men would eventually underestimate her. There had been another man around. One who dared to challenge her abilities by trying to attack her once she let herself in. Call it self-defense – the Eskrima she practiced worked out. Which, of course, was too bad for the poor man.

"So, Miss Lange. Who would have thought we would meet again, so soon? And in here. I must confess, that was quite a surprise. Too bad Yuri didn't know you."

The man who addressed her easily hid the flash of a smug smile on his face, then changed his look so quickly that it would fool over 95 percent of the people he'd meet.

Not her. Not anymore. She had been fooled by him only once and even now, she was aware of the fact that he was a person who had felt the urge to be in control of others all the time. Heck, he even betrayed her team. And she knew, yet here she was.

"No longer the puppet master, right, Miss Lange? Or should I call you Gloria Woods? Or—" and he peeked at the passport he took from the coffee table, "Herta Pavlenco. Of course. A perfect cover for this part of 'Paradise on Earth'." He finished with a short snort "Россия-Матушка [mother Russia] is even more appropriate, right?"

All she did was carefully watch the man's body language, continuously. Nobody spoke for the next minutes and both of them simply observed.

"So, how did you do it?" the man then asked.

She pursed her lips slightly and steepled her hands. "Carl Brown," was her short answer.

The man tilted his head and he grinned for a moment. He now understood there was nothing to hide. "How many did he get?"

"Get what?" Hetty asked, surprised.

"I taught him well. Not get caught without any collateral damage. So, which members of your precious team did he kill?"

She shook her head. "You know, I like to think I am a good judge of characters. I've been fooled before by you. Fortunately, I have managed to strip your character layer by layer."  
>He had been a good agent, she thought. And one of the kids she had wanted to safe from a future that would have been hopeless. Like she had taken care of Callen and Grace, the man who stood in front of her had been one of the lost kids. She sighed deeply. The feelings she had experienced months before came back and struck hard.<p>

"None. You might say Brown screwed up, in your words. Now, Pyotr. You might want to tell me. Are there any more I should know of?"

The man simply shook his head and motioned to the two men who still stood there, not talking. They probably didn't understand what the two of them had been discussing, because, once Hetty heard them speaking for the first time it was when they turned to her.

"идти [come along]," the man to her left spoke. At least Henrietta Lange did understand their language.

o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)

**NCIS Office of Special Projects || Los Angeles**

By now, Eric and Nell already heard Hetty wasn't around and there was nothing the other team members had managed to find out. The two pairs of agents were on their ways back to the office already.

"This is different from the time she was summoned to come to Washington, right?" Nell looked at her partner in crime whose chair immediately swiveled towards hers.

Eric nodded. "Different. On the other hand, it worries me more, much more."

The small redhead understood. "Different from the scary moment we found out about the mole in our midst. But less different."

They had heard the footsteps hurrying upstairs and both weren't surprised to hear Callen picking up their discussion.  
>"What if it isn't different at all? I mean, this guy Brown didn't look very clever at all. The only thing I really think that was odd was the way he nearly smiled happily when we interrogated him at the boathouse."<p>

"If it were Kensi he was reacting on, I can imagine a happy smile like the one he showed. But with you?" Deeks agreed in his own special way.

Sam interrupted, knowing his partner wasn't in the mood to joke at all. "As we all noticed, Brown made some stupid mistakes. Like putting you away, locked up in the armory. On the other hand, he knew how to handle a gun. So he must have had some training."

"Which makes me wonder from who," Kensi thought aloud. She then turned to the two younger persons. "Eric, can you find out if Hetty had any conversations, phone calls or personal visits to Carl Brown during the past week? Because if she did…"

"She might have found out something," Callen agreed.

"Follow her leads and we'll find her," Sam added to that.

It took them only an hour to find out what their smart and tiny operation manager detected over one and a half day before.

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><p><em>Thanks for reading. As ever, your reviews are very welcome!<em>


	3. Chapter 3

**Detour**

**Chapter 3**

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><p>"She did WHAT?"<p>

He knew he snapped, but the message Eric just passed them worried him even more. Like Callen had asked, Eric had backtracked their boss' actions and only minutes ago he had called them upstairs with one of his weird whistles.

Not only had Hetty visited Brown, alone, in the California State Prison at Lancaster. She had also paid a visit to a bank. Coming in empty handed and leaving with a package could mean anything if it concerned Hetty. Last thing Eric had found out was that she had left 'Lady H.' and stepped into a cab which drove her straight to LAX.

Eric nodded once again, this time at the large screen which showed the taxi. "LAX," he confirmed and then continued "So far Nell and I haven't found her name on a passenger list."

"Hm. Try her aliases. Gloria Cole. Gloria Woods or Gloria Pavlenco. Or Herta Cole, Sylvia Cole. Try Pavlenco anyway," Callen told the Tech Operator.

He then jogged down the stairs and let his clear blue eyes go over Hetty's now empty desk.

Without looking back he knew his large partner followed and Callen remarked "Breadcrumbs, Sam. She's leaving breadcrumbs again."

"How's that, G?" Sam asked.

Callen walked to the small coffee corner where he took two mugs from the low cabinet and poured fresh coffee in them. When he handed his partner one of the cups he answered: "Think, buddy. This is Hetty Lange, Duchess of Deception. If she wants to stay unseen, she simply will. Instead Eric was able to follow her tracks all the time."

"Well, that may be true, but we don't know what Brown told her. We don't know what it is she picked up from that bank. And so far, we don't know where she went," Sam reasoned.

The other man let his left hand go over his stubbled cheek, then sipped some of the hot liquid. "That'll be only a matter of minutes." Callen put his coffee on his desk and took his go-bag. "We might think about the backstopping already," he said with a half-smile.

o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)

**Volgodonsk || Ul. Luchezarnaya 14**

After she was forced to get up, he was surprised again by the fragile figure of the woman he once, or perhaps still, admired. No matter how hard he had tried to instruct his partner in crime, Carl Brown failed to do his job like he should have. Instead, she was in here, an easy target from now on. And all he could think of was that her team would come and look for her.

Hetty looked the younger man straight in his brown eyes. "Pyotr Pavlovitsj Gavrilov… You see, I still dó know your real name. Now tell me, Paul. Did you really think I am someone who would want to hurt you? Is it because I let you walk?"

"It's because you left me no choice. Telling me I owe you my life. But which life? No birth records, no social security number, no digital footprint. All because you decided I made one mistake." Paul Angelo snarled. "So, here I am, building a new life. You'd be surprised how easy and lovely that can be". He paused and sighed softly.  
>He then continued :"Anyway, I want a life in which I get rid of my past. And since I knew you were never the one to cut the strings, I wanted to make sure your life would be like mine. Wiped out of the registers, hunted out of the agency. Scared. Retired. Yet, this is what happens".<p>

Once again he gestured at the other men, who now came closer. Then he asked in a low voice: "What made you come in here Hetty?"

She shook her head nearly unseen. "Actually, Mr. Angelo, I got tired of being hunted. Hoped we could reach a kind of truce. And it wasn't that hard to realize someone was puppeteering Carl Brown. Looking into Brown's files, it wasn't that hard to find out you and he were closer than anyone might figure out."

He came closer, narrowing his now cold eyes. "And you found out on your own, Henrietta? Or did your all-time favorite agent give you a hand with it?"  
>His voice sounded cruel now and it made her shiver.<p>

o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)

**NCIS Office of Special Projects || Los Angeles**

Instead of one of the loud whistles, both Eric and Nell came downstairs. The information analyst started talking, a mix of excitement, relief and worry. "You were right, Callen. About the name Pavlenco I mean."

Eric continued: "She booked a flight from LAX to Rostov. And it was easy as pie to find out about the short inland flight from Rostov to the city of Volgodonsk after that."

"Volgodonsk?" Deeks asked. "Sounds like it is farther than Washington."

"Russia", Eric smiled.

Kensi had been quiet so far. She frowned and asked: "Why? What on earth is she doing in there? Callen?"

He shook his head. "Any reason I should know? Listen, perhaps a short discussion with Carl Brown, like Hetty had, might clear up some of our questions. The two of you might give it a try. Won't have to take any longer than half an hour, I figure."

Deeks and Kensi nodded, then left.

"Meanwhile we might look into some of the files Hetty has been working on." Callen faced the Tech Operator and smirked.

"But what if she—" Eric said in a low voice, looking around as if Hetty might show up any moment.

"Look, we – and that means you too - want to get her back in here, safe and sound, right?" Sam now urged. "And we know that you know how to find out more than any discussion with any inmate might come up with."  
>A simple nod from him made both his younger co-workers from the operations center turn to their keyboards and screens once again.<p>

The young redhead looked up and said "You'll have to wait over three hours to catch a flight," Nell said.

Callen nodded. "Perhaps there's some time left to think about a great cover. We can't go in like we did in Romania. I don't want any black-op. Something that fits the four of us."

"Like researchers? There's this large basin near the town," Eric mentioned.

It sounded okay, but not convincing enough.  
>"Journalists would be better. It's easier to ask questions that way," Callen said. "And perhaps it's better not to go in as Americans."<p>

"How about Canadian? Your French is okay, and Kensi speaks it as well." Nell suggested.

Eric started grinning, saying "Writing an article about the possibilities of the Tsimljansk Reservoir, and comparing it to this Canadian one. Did you know there's a Whistler Mountain basin in Canada. Like whistling – you get it?"

Sam shot another serious look at the bespectacled younger man. "We get it. Now, you get it. We'll need you to get us some fake credentials, backstopping. Passports. We need you to continue backtracking Hetty's past few days. And we'll need you to let us see what Hetty saw. Which means, there's work to do."

"Right. Right. You're right," Eric mumbled as he took a seat at Deeks' desk, next to the large former Seal.

Nell tilted her head slightly, smiled and sat at the other now empty desk. "Easy for you, Callen. Did you know there's paperwork with your picture on it. Gilles Carlson from Manitoba."

He sent her a smile and said "Told you so, Sam. You see, I'm ready to go!"

He smiled at the way his partner now grabbed the items he wanted to take. Items he already had packed.

Now all they had to do was wait for the other part of their team.

o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)

**Volgodonsk || Ul. Luchezarnaya 14**

Her feet had gotten wet when the two large men had guided her to stairs that led downstairs to something that once was a regular basment. But first Paul Angelo had ordered them to handcuff her – her!  
>Hetty Lange, spy and outstanding agent in the past, had found many more orphans like this man and got them to the US in a way she never explained. Kept an eye on them and if she thought they were talented enough, she had managed to have them trained, eventually hoping they would become great agents as well.<p>

And heck, how wrong was she about this man. Something happened since that one night she had let him go. Something she hadn't foreseen and Hetty realized she maybe misjudged the bitter feelings of revenge he had all the time.

She was chilled to the bone by now. It was more than just having to stay in this damp and dark room in a pantsuit and a far too thin coat. It was not that she was scared for her own life.  
>It was the way Paul Angelo had asked her about her team.<br>More specific about one of them.

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><p><em>Thank you so much for reading. Please do let me know your thougths about this chapter!<em>


	4. Chapter 4

**Detour**

**Chapter 4**

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><p><em>Disclaimer: As you all know, the characters in this story are made up by Shane Brennan and belong to CBS. Nevertheless, I'm glad to play around with them!<em>

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><p><span><strong>California State Prison || <strong>**Lancaster**

The smug smile on the man who had worked quite unnoticed in their office for years and years surprised Deeks and Kensi. In fact, it annoyed Kensi so much she hardly was able to hide it.

"I could've killed you easily. All of you. And you-" he tilted toward the junior agents as far as his cuffs enabled him and confessed in a lower voice: "especially you two and that naïve techie would never see it coming."

Carl Brown then leaned back in the plain plastic chair and sent them a satisfied smile.

Now Deeks put his elbows on the table and leaned over to the other man as far as he could. and looked the rather dull looking and corpulent man in the eyes. He shook his head and said: "Carl. Carl, you know that you are in this rather unpleasant place not because of us. True, we let you live and had you sent to this place. But the real reason you're in here is because of somebody else. Someone who will not help you out of here."

Kensi sent the man one of the sweetest smiles she had. One that made Deeks smile inwardly because he knew it meant trouble. "You'll meet people in here who will - how shall I say... they will like to comfort you. That's right, aint it, Deeks?"

The detective nodded, looking serious now.

The too heavy man licked his lips nervously now. "What do you mean - comfort?"

Deeks smiled pathetically. "Imagine something like intimate hugging, Carl. Until your trial you'll experience the people in here are really nice for their fellows. You haven't experienced one of the shower sessions with your inmates yet, I can see."

Again, Brown looked rather scared and nervous. "And what if I told you more. Then we'll get out of here, right?"

Deeks now sat upright and let his hands go through his messy blond hair. He then nodded slightly.

"Paul Angelo." Another smug smile appeared on Carl Brown's face.

Both Deeks and Kensi managed to hide their surprise to this confession. Then Deeks pushed back his chair and rose, while Kensi nodded and smiled friendly to Brown once again. "Like you said, we'll get you out of this room. Thank you."

She then followed Deeks who knocked on the door, letting the guards know they were ready.

"Wait, wait," Brown now begged. He finally realized there was no reduction of sentence granted like he had hoped.

"Indeed, we're out of here," Deeks simply replied. Then he chuckled, more or less to himself 'Remember, you'll know a raccoon when you see one, Mr. Brown.'

o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)

**NCIS Office of Special Projects || Los Angeles**

"Look-ezar-naadzja street. Or something like that."  
>Eric sighed in relief, now he managed to tell the others to where he had followed the trail that led all the way from Los Angeles to the place their operations manager was last seen. Not by him, but by traffic camera's.<br>"It wasn't really that hard," he proudly said. "And since there's no KGB anymore it won't be any trouble at all. Though I don't know what the FSB will think of it."

Nell simply ignored her partner's chatter and put a map on screen. With a small laser pen she pointed at the black, non-distinct Nissan that halted at the beginning of a long street with small houses on both streets. "If you look carefully, you'll see her get out of this car."

Although the person on screen stayed more or less hidden in shadows, it was clear by seeing the posture of the person who got out. The four of them knew it was Hetty indeed.

"Well done." Sam simply said.

Callen looked closer. "This is November 4th, which is consisting to what we know."  
>He looked as his watch. "How about our paperwork, y'have it all ready for the four of us, just in case?"<p>

"Like I said, yours was easy Callen, since your alias Gilles Carlson from Manitoba already existed. We have a press card, a driver's license and passport for you already. You're a writer for the Winnipeg Sun. And you will be Sam Hanson, photographer for that same newspaper. Kensi and Deeks can go as Kathrin Brewer and Martin Dawson who write a background story on the climate changes and how this effects the surroundings of a large basin."

"Wait… That is serious business you want them to write about? How about the two of us?" Sam asked.

The small redhead smiled sweetly. "Bird hunting?"

"Wait-wait… Did I hear bird hunting?" Deeks' voice came from behind them. "Sounds terrific. Russian birds must be awesome, right, Fern?"

Sam shook his head. "That's clear enough. Nell, you should switch those items we work on."

The only words that sounded reasonable came from Kensi. "It's mister 'Three Hearts' we'll be looking for. Paul Angelo. That lying traitorous agent Hetty sent away."

Callen looked up when he heard the name. "He told you that, did he? So, Carl Brown wasn't the one behind this after all. But really… Paul Angelo?"  
>He shook his head, remembering how the agent he never worked with but whose name had rang a bell when the team had been assigned with the case of getting Krokodil Crock off the streets.<br>He remembered the only time he really dealt with Angelo. However, the two never talked. When they met, Callen had been wearing the filthy old coat from Deeks and using a syringe to get Paul Angelo off the case since his cover was doubted. At first, it was to protect Angelo. Only hours later, Paul Angelo managed to betray the one who trusted him, once – Hetty. And yes, it nearly got Callen killed too. Because instead of giving him a save-word, Paul Angelo gave him a word that made the baddies realize they're work was breached.

And now Hetty was after Angelo?!

Another glance at his watch told him there was at least 18 hours left to think about it.  
>"Time to go, guys."<p>

o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)

**Volgodonsk || Ul. Luchezarnaya || 14.26 PM**

By now, Hetty hardly felt her fingers, her hands, anymore. And although the place was pitch-dark, she felt there was water in the basement as well. More than beforehand.

Things had turned out very, very different from what she had expected. Different and far from good.

And Hetty knew that if the water kept coming in this basement at this pace, she'd be gone in 10 hours from now.

Unless of course she managed to escape herself, or when Paul Angelo came back to get her out of here, or the water level would drop. In a way, she could accept an ending like this.

And she knew she made a terrible mistake.  
>She shouldn't have come to find the man who was once the boy Pyotr Pavlovitsj Gavrilov. Little Pyotr appeared to have grown into being a far more evil man right now. How on earth could it be she never saw this coming? And how on earth did she get in this position - getting caught?<p>

Now the cold definitely settled in her tiny sixty-six years old body, she could not stop the painful coughing anymore. Still, Hetty Lange did not want to give up.  
>All she wanted to do was to warn her team for the damage that could be done by this agent who went rough.<p>

There was more than Paul Angelo had told her. Things that she needed to figure out, before… Well, before it was too late.

o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)

**Rostov-na-Donu airport | ****14.30 PM**

At least they had won 11 hours, getting from Los Angeles to the city Rostov-na-Donu. It had been a long flight in a crowded plane, and as ever, Callen dozed off easily. During the periods he was awake, he realized how much this situation resembled the time they followed Hetty to Prague and from there on, to Romania.

This time, the team was left in the dark about the real reasons they're mystery Operations manager had to travel to Russia.

All that mattered now was to find her and ask.

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><p><em>Thank you all for taking the time to read ánd review. Love to hear your opinion about what's going on!<em>


	5. Chapter 5

**Detour**

**Chapter 5**

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><p><span><strong>Russia || Rostov-on-Don<strong>

Although it usually was Sam driving a car, this time it was Deeks who was behind the wheel of the large Volga station wagon, and he was muttering loudly  
>"I never thought I'd miss the Los Angeles freeways. This is 15th Century stuff. I mean, seriously, how can I drive a car, try to avoid getting us all disappearing in those giant sinkholes in the road ánd watch the other idiot Cyrillic suicide drivers in here?"<br>He took a deep breath. With his left hand on the steering wheel, his gaze shifted from the road to what his right hand hardly managed to do - getting the car into another gear. When he finally controlled the movement his right hand had to made, all of the passengers were aware that the blond detective forgot how to use the clutch pedal simultaneously. The awful noise they all heard proved something went wrong.

"Manual transmission. This is so 1980," Deeks added with a sigh.

Kensi, who joined Sam in the backseat, snorted when she heard this. "As if you remember how to drive around with your first block cart."

The bantering would have continued if it wasn't that all four of their cellphones beeped in unison.

'For your information: the 4th Nuclear Power Plant is being built near Volgodonsk right now.' Sam read the message aloud. "Nell added an attachment with it. You think it's related?".  
>He looked up at the others, more or less expecting an answer.<p>

It was quiet for some seconds, then Callen responded "Even if there is something going on with this power plant - this is not our country. And we know that by now Nell will have noticed Granger - but no matter what, we have no legal jurisdiction and no back-up in here. We're only in here to find Hetty and to find out why she went to visit Paul Angelo."

"Well, from what Carl Brown told us, I don't think we'll catch them both on drinking a vodka and catching up some fun from the past," Deeks said. Immediately after this cheerful remark, he started using offensive words when he noticed he wasn't able to avoid one of the many holes in the road.

o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)

Volgodonsk || 3 hours later

Driving from Rostov-on-Don to the city of Volgodonsk took a long three hours. With a little help of Google and a little from Nell, Deeks finally drove the car slowly to the beginning of the street and finally parked it. He turned off the lights and the four of them quietly observed the deserted right side of the street.

"Are we sure this is the exact street Eric told us about?" Kensi asked.

Sam said "Well, on the camera feeds that Eric hacked into, we did see Hetty getting out of a taxi in front of number 14." He quickly and silently counted the houses. "Which would be behind that blueish gate."

There was a shed which was at least as high as the small detached house behind it.

"Fun thing is that this might just as well be LA, don't you think? I mean, look at this. We could just play 'Spot the Difference," Deeks said.

"Never mind," Kensi said, sharper than usual. "What's the plan?" When all of them paused, she asked "Callen?"

He quickly scanned the message on his small phone screen, then he looked up and turned around. "Got a green light from Director Vance to go and find Hetty. Whenever we think she's in danger, there's another green light to shoot to kill the ones who get in our way. Unless it's Angelo. Orders are to get him back to the States. Alive."

Then, he observed the neighborhood as well. "So, on the contrary from what this looks like, those are the gates to the front doors."

"You mean there's no back door?" Sam asked.

The team leader shook his head. "Not around here, obviously. And I seriously doubt there's an unseen entry from any back alley." He unbuckled and then added "Deeks, Kensi, try number 10."

"No gates," Kensi noticed. "And all is dark."

Then all four of them got out, quiet because now they knew there was no time left to discuss the matter anymore. After all, people in here wouldn't be used to hear four people speaking American in their street, no matter how deserted things looked around it right now.

Callen stopped and signed at the others – now halt and divide. With two fingers up Deeks nodded at Kensi. Both of them would go in from a possible backside of the address Eric gave them, while Callen and Sam were the ones to try it from the front gate.

The glance Sam shot at Callen said enough - too high to climb over it. Carefully, Sam tried if the gates were locked. Much to his surprise, the handle proved differently and both partners hurried as soundless as possible through it, closing the gate behind them.

A small nod from Callen made them split up and hurry around the shed. Getting in the house unseen wasn't difficult – the front door wasn't locked either. The first real obstacle the two of them met was a 6.4 ft man.

In fact, it was Callen who met the man. Despite of his length, the man had small shoulders which hung too low for his posture.

And in fact, the man reacted very slow. Callen smiled politely and asked "Привет. Это твой папа дома?" [Hello there. Is your dad at home]

The none-understanding look on the man's face changed to surprise and after that to completely blank, simply because Sam had quickly come from behind and managed to choke him easily.

When there were some stumbling noises from a different part of the house, both agents drew their guns and hurried towards where the noises came from. With their gaze checking every part of the house they went through, they finally discovered that Kensi had to use her knife to stop another opponent from fighting back.

Then the four agents stopped and stood in a living room which was empty. A small ashtray and four cups on the lounge table proved however that some people had been around. More than those two they met so far. Still, all was quiet.

The large and strongly built former navy Seal and the blond detective motioned to the team leader. Without speaking, each of the team members knew exactly what the other ones were up to. While Sam and Deeks took their positions to check the upper floor, Callen and Kensi were the ones to go through the ground floor.

While the first 'clear' sounded from upstairs, Callen heard a different sound when he entered the small kitchen. Something like running water. He opened a door which he figured would lead to the basement and the sound was clearer immediately.

"Kenz..."

She heard more than the same hesitation she felt. Something that sounded like fear.

Callen took the small flashlight from the pocket of his jacket and descended the steep staircase until from halfway, his feet reached the freezing water. Covering every inch of the spacious room with the small light until he spotted something in the dark shadows right behind one of the cupboards. He squinted but at the very same time he knew that it wasn't a something he saw but a someone.

"In here!" he shouted and added "Kensi, get the others in here."

He dropped his gun and hurried down till he reached the basement floor. As quick as he could he waded through the water to the ever so still posture. "Hetty!?"

In his own perception, he hesitated minutes, fearing that what he would find out was worse than he expected. Callen swallowed once more, then checked with his index finger if there was a pulse. The heartbeat was weak, but nevertheless it was a heartbeat.

Again, he shouted "Kensi!"

In matter of seconds the dark-haired agent was beside him. "Need your knife," he simply stated.

Without words, she understood and she fumbled beneath the water surface until she felt where she had to work. The tie wraps quickly ripped and she nodded. Then Callen carried the apparent lifeless body up the stairs.

Sam and Deeks were waiting for them. "We'll need dry clothes. An isolation blanket." Callen ordered as he carefully put the older woman on the couch.

"On it," Deeks answered. He hurried back to the door Callen and Sam had entered the house from, to the car he had parked in there. There were dogs who had started barking and he wondered if it was because of the way he ran. He kept his gun drawn, still alert for any watchers or worse, people who were waiting to take revenge.

Deeks yanked the door of the large station wagon open and grabbed two of the go-bags, then hurried back inside.

"G, I don't think we should stay in here too long." Sam said, his gun still ready and carefully observing the surroundings. "From what we saw, there were more people in here at first. More than those two men. What if the others come back?"

He nodded. "You're right. But we do need to get Hetty in dry clothes. We need to slowly warm her up. Any adrenaline shot would be great too."

He noticed how Kensi quickly but decently managed to redress their boss.  
>Meanwhile he prepared a syringe with adrenaline, his mind in a whirl about the exact quantum. "We need bottles of warm water too and see if there's any ginger tea."<br>Never mind his own aversion against needles, Callen managed to insert it precisely and calmly, completely ignoring the snorts from Deeks who nervously mentioned something about drinking tea with Hetty.

"One of the benefits of ginger is that it warms the body from within. You should've known Deeks, working with Hetty," Sam said. "Like adrenaline will stimulate the heart to keep beating regularly, whilst in situations of severe hypothermia it has difficulties pumping the warm blood through one's body."

"And you all know this because?" Deeks asked, serious now.

"Basic Seal training."

"But your partner never was a Seal," the blond detective now stated.

Sam shot him a quick smile. "Guess he spent too much time in Russia already."

Callen looked up. "We'll need at least a quarter of an hour more," he stated. "To see if she'll warm up. Maybe you should start the heater of the car as well," he addressed Deeks. "Keep your eyes and ears open."

"Callen, there's no Ginger tea. All I found is this—" Kensi read aloud "Tarry Lapsang Souchong".

He nodded. "See if you can make a very dark one of this. Add some honey. Every Russian will have some."  
>Carefully he wrapped the isolation blanket more loosely around the older woman and once again he checked the heartbeat, which felt more regular already.<p>

o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)

"She booked us rooms at the Pushkinskaya Hotel." Deeks said as he disconnected the secured connection he had with Nell. He turned to the others in the backseat "That's close to the airport in Rostov. We can have a five hours of sleep before we have to catch our flight back home."  
>He quietly observed how Kensi carefully rubbed the older woman's hands, while Callen filled another syringe with another transparent fluid. "How's she doing?"<p>

The team lead shook his head. "Heartbeat is regular, breathing still shallow, temperature now 95. She's not responding so far. This is a B1 shot. Might strengthen her a little."

Hetty probably recognized his voice when he spoke, because she opened her eyes and although her eyes kept unfocused and her voice slurred as she croaked "Callen. He is here."  
>It was barely audible and he softly replied "It's okay Hetty. We're all in here. You're safe, it's okay."<p>

"We're on our way home, Hetty," Kensi added with a smile. She noticed how their operations manager sank back in a restless semi-comatose state. "She'll be alright now, won't she?" She then asked.

From behind the wheel, Sam said "Hallucinating might be a part of game. To me it seems she'll be okay indeed." He smiled broadly. "I really can't remember having met anyone as tough as this little ninja-boss of ours."

The younger blond detective next to him smiled softly as he sent another secured text message to their co-workers at ops. "Gotta love our job," Deeks said. "This operation went as smooth as a day surfing at Topanga Point in February. Which of course, none of you knows about. I mean, every single wave is blissfully curved like a perfect woman's body and—"

Sam nodded and his eyes still smiled as he interrupted "We get it Deeks."  
>Then he concentrated on the road again, carefully avoiding some holes. "If only this road was as smooth," he then muttered. From behind, he noticed the two cars that were definitely in a hurry and wanting to pass them. He slowed down to give way.<p>

"Crazy son of a bitch," Sam then scuffed as the first of the two cars suddenly braked once it had passed them. He jammed the brakes too prevent a crash.

A quick glance to the left was enough to know they had been too optimistic in the end. Two masked guys were pointing automatic weapons straight at them and he knew there was nothing he could do.

From the first car, two more men came. "выйти из машины [get out of the car]" one of them ordered.

"There's no way we're going to shoot our way out of this," Sam hissed. Again, he heard something in the language he didn't understand. "What's that, Callen?" Kensi asked, her gun at the ready.

His eyes were ice-cold and he nervously wriggled his jaw. "They want us all out of the car," Callen replied.

"Hurry out." The pronunciation was terrible, but the message was clear.

Slowly, Deeks and Kensi were the first ones to open their doors, their hands up. Callen looked at Hetty, knowing there was no way she could defend herself nor get out of the car herself. There was another snarl in Russian, immediately followed by a series of automatic shots which startled them all.

Then Sam opened the driver's door and stepped out and Callen did the same.

"Knees."

Kensi heaved a sigh as she suddenly knew what might happen. Deeks took her hand and squeezed it as encouraging as possible. Though he was always the optimistic kind of man, he bit the inside of his cheeks, not knowing his partner would buy anything else but this.

Then Sam kneeled next to them. When Callen was about to do the same, the same man spoke.

"Njet."

Sam was about to get up, angrily speaking "G. No way you—" His words were cut off with a rapid gunshot and he yelled as he felt a bullet hitting his left upper arm.

"Dammit!" Callen shouted as he turned to his partner. Then the man behind him cocked his head with the butt of his gun and he collapsed to the ground, groaning in pain. Someone quickly covered his head with a cloth and he was dragged away, straight into one of the other cars.

Once in it, the car sped away. The last thing Callen heard were four gunshots and he knew things had gone terribly wrong.

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><p><em>Thank you for reading. Please do leave a review - it's a way of knowing if I am on the right track...<em>


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

**Detour**

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><p><em>Disclaimer: All credits for the great characters of NCIS Los Angeles go to Shane Brennan, his writing team and CBS. Thank you for letting me use them!<em>

* * *

><p>Never mind the throbbing headache and the uncomfortable feeling of a dirty cloth stitching to a gash on his head, Callen's mind was whirling. Those four shots - did they really shoot his co-workers? He swallowed some times and his anger flared as he DID see them shoot Sam.<br>He tried to concentrate on his own situation right now - banning everything else from his thoughts.  
>Callen started to work his body to an upright position, feeling there was enough room for that. Of course his hands were tied behind his back with a rough rope, very tightly too. He let out an inward curse, knowing getting rid of it wasn't as easy as with tie-wraps or the standard cuffs.<br>He supposed they put him in the back of a SUV. 'They', but who were they?

"Who are you?" he asked.

No-one responded. He asked again, this time in Russian.

"Pyotr will tell," a man said with a very thick accent.

Callen sighed. He did not know anyone called Pyotr. "What happened to the others?"

The same voice answered "They will not follow."

Callen swallowed hard. He really couldn't imagine his team was gone. Those shots? He prayed it were only the tires that were hit.

Although the main road wasn't exactly Highway 5, there was enough traffic to have witnessed what happened. Enough people to help or to pick up anyone who'd ask for it. On the other hand, Sam was hit by a bullet and he did not know how bad, and the only one who spoke Russian too was Hetty whose condition was far from good.

o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)

"Those goddamned bastards!" Deeks swore for what must have been at least the tenth time on a row.  
>He and Kensi had taken care of Sam, who was now leaning back against in the seat next to Hetty. From what they saw the bullet went through-and-trough and Sam himself figured it had only hit weak parts.<br>Deeks turned to see the large senior agent grunting his teeth. It might be he was in pain, although the frustration of not knowing what happened to Callen might be taking its toll as well.

"Is there any reason why a car has only one spare tire?" Kensi sighed as she crawled from underneath the car.

Her partner stopped muttering and eyed the dark-haired female agent. "Fern. Is there any reason why you want to know? Any reason you wanted to check? And – what is more important - is there any reason why you aren't in position right now?"

She frowned, wondering what he meant. "In position?"

"Try and stop a car. We can't sit and wait and have a picknick. Least we can do is try and-"

She put her hands on her hips - an offensive stance which mostly did mean trouble. "Right. And you're suggesting it's the perfect job for me - because?"

Deeks moaned loudly: "What if any of these vodka-drinking madmen think I want anything of them?"

"Guys... Any word from Nell or Eric?" Sam informed from where he sat. He assumed this was the best time to interrupt.

The blond detective shook his head. "All they could check was that all GPS items Callen had on him were removed. Watch, belt, gun, ID-card, phone - all are located, ditched less than a mile from here. As if Callen told them what he carried with him."

"He is here." The soft voice of Hetty sounded, stronger now than before.

Worried, Sam asked her "Who is here?"

"Callen." His boss said. "Callen, he is here."

Was she hallucinating again, he wondered, or was she trying to tell something else?

o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)

Sure, he might have missed some time and any sense of direction.  
>Still, Callen assumed they had driven over 3 hours by now. Three hours was about the time it had taken them for driving from Rostov to Volgodonsk. So, if this car wasn't driving back to Rostov - where were they going?<p>

o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)

**NCIS Office of Special Projects || Los Angeles**

"Paul Angelo got into the United States 31 years ago. As an orphan, 4 years old. His mother was a Russian air hostess, his father a member of the former KGB. Both parents died during what appeared to be a helicopter accident," Nell told the bespectacled blond tech.

"Let me guess," Eric said, "He was recruited by Hetty as well?"

The petite redhead nodded. "Straight from the system and after high school, Angelo went to the police academy. After serving in the New York police force for 10 years, he joined the FBI. Entered NCIS in San Diego 5 years ago, same time as Grace Stevens."

Eric huffed: "It's clear that their basic training was the same. Doesn't surprise me - they even work the same. Lone Wolves - long undercover ops. Like Callen did too."

"Wouldn't say that's true. Callen is a natural. The others are... trained. I think in the end the might break."

"Go rogue." Eric understood. "I get the idea. And I get why and when things went wrong between Paul Angelo and Hetty. What I don't get is that Angelo might be the one who's after Callen. And if so, why."

Nell sent him a quick smile. Well, since Callen is not around to explain, that leaves us to find out, right?"

o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)

**Russia || Rostov-on-Don**

It had taken over an hour, but finally a truck driver had stopped near where the four of them were waiting. The man spoke some English and understood, also by seeing Sam and Hetty, that this group of people were desperate to get to Rostov-on-Don, where they hoped to find their missing lead agent.

Sure, chances were limited they would… but at least they could rent a car in the city. Perhaps there was a chance to follow any clues, if any would occur. Besides, there would be hospitals in Rostov. And both Deeks and Kensi had decided that Hetty and Sam would be better off after some medical care.

o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)

From the sounds in the car, Callen had already found out there were two men with him. Russians. He recognized their accents, probably from near Moscow or even more up North. And now he concentrated he had figured out that the car traveled westwards, farther than Rostov-on-Don was. Just when he had pictured that, the shooting outside started. Then a moment of nothing, followed by the screeching tires of the car and the feeling he had experienced before – the car started to trip. At the same time Callen knew there was no way to prevent a rollover – neither would there be a way to brace himself for what was to come.  
>After the second rollover his head hit something hard and all went dark.<p>

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><p>Thank you for reading. Your reviews are very welcome. And for those who wanted to read more - sorry for the short chapter. Of course, there's more to come :-)<p> 


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

**Detour**

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><p>Thanks for leaving all your wonderful reviews! To those who are not logged in or I cannot find back on twitter I really want to tell how grateful I am to read your thoughts on this storyline. That goes for you, Wotumba1, guest &amp; skippy.<p>

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><p>Slowly, Callen opened his eyes. Meanwhile he was trying to get up, working his way out of this situation. His brain registered, involuntary, that something had changed though.<p>

Green, calm eyes were above his clear blues this time.  
>"Try to lie still. I don't think moving is the best thing to do right now." Then there was a sincere but worrying smile from an older man who spoke softly. "You're safe in here."<p>

Callen quickly scanned the room he was in, but doing this too fast made him realize this man was right. He should lie still – the sudden movements made him nauseous. "Concussion?" was all he said. There were many questions he wanted to ask. Perhaps he didn't have to speak. Perhaps answers to his questions would be given in mean time.

In perfect English the man answered "You've been out for over half an hour. So yeah, indeed it looks like one. I did try to patch up the wound on your head as good as I could. Still, I think you'll need to see a doctor."  
>The man smiled again and wrinkles appeared everywhere when he continued to speak. "I'm not a specialist, you see. I'm simply Theo Roslare, a retired Northumbrian farmer who once found his luck in this country. They brought you in here, knowing that I know some of the basics of first aid."<br>His rough hands gently lifted Callen's left arm. "These fingers must hurt. I tried to set and fix all three of them, but x-rays will be needed to show if I did the right thing. Like your shoulder…"

Moving his head in the direction the man's attention went to made Callen feel sick again and he closed his eyes, hoping that would make a difference indeed.

"I do hope the painkillers work," the man now stated, his gaze on Callen's pale face now. "Maybe you need some more. The tranquilizers did work."

"No please. Those are not necessary now," Callen cut him off, without shaking his head and without opening his eyes. "Just tell me what happened," he added, softer this time.

"You don't know?" There was a short pause, then the other man continued. "This is a war zone. And you were in the middle of a war already, right? At least, that is what we figured out, being tied up and blindfolded like you were. We live just past the eastern part of Ukraine, the part where Russians are not as welcome as in the Donetsk region. The part of the country where so-called Ukrainian freedom fighters hate our eastern neighbors. Which is why they hit the military-like car with military-like passengers when they were driving in the village. Imagine their surprise there was another passenger – a hostage. You."

"I had — "Callen shook his head, immediately virtually head-slapping himself as it hurt more than he wanted. "I had no idea where we were. And the others?"

"Russian mad-men. They were taken to one of the other villages, nearby. As I said, the ones who found you brought you in here once they noticed you're Canadian."

The business-cards. Callen remembered how Nell had handed him 16 cards she had printed in the office. All other items he had on him had been removed. All, except for the simple paper cards he had stocked in the upper pocket of his jacket.

"Any names on the Russians?" Callen asked.

The older man sat back as he watched his guest. Then he squinted his eyes and said "Why, mister Carlson, do you want to know?"

Callen paused for a moment, let his odds pass and decided this man could be trusted, should be trusted. More tired than he expected now, he told "They were shooting at my fellow reporters and I want to know why. This is no country where journalists are being kidnapped for a ransom. So, I want to know what they want from me."

The older man nodded. "I understand. But first things first. I don't think you are in a condition to drive yourself and go and ask them. And as I said, you're safe in here. Now, you lay back and relax. I'll see what I can do. Let old Theo see what he can do."  
>He smiled at the younger man who reacted calmer than most other people did. But then again, Theo Roslare had seen the scars of the impact of several bullets. Most other people did not have scars like that.<br>"Relax," he repeated, as he noticed how Callen had trouble keeping his eyes open.

Theo Roslare then walked to his kitchen where he took one of the cell phones that were found in the same car as Callen was. He also took one of the small cards and started dialing the number on it.

o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)

**NCIS Office of Special Projects || Los Angeles**

Eric leaned back in his chair, stretching nearly all his limbs without any embarrassment. He then turned to the younger information analyst. "Do you think Hetty has any other files hidden in here as well? Because in one way or another, I've got the feeling we're reading the redacted files as we do."

Nell was quiet for a while. "Well, we do know some of the backgrounds of Paul Angelo right now. And Hetty DID keep her word –she let him walk away and ever since there is no more Paul Angelo popping up in any of the systems."  
>She then sent Eric a curt smile. "How about you start working of facial recognition, finger prints and—"<p>

He pushed his glasses in position once again and said "The systems are working on that already. But as I said, I'm pretty sure there's more. Something we're not aware of right now." He grinned in a boyish way and suggested "I could try and hack into some systems too, while we wait for the ordinary 'pings' that might sound when the regular programs find what we're looking for. How about that?"

All Nell did was nod.

o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)

**Rostov-on-Don || Yuzhnyy Okruzhnoy Meditsinskiy Tsentr**

He had gotten all grumpy when after three long hours of waiting, a too well-proportioned female nurse had probed the wound in Sam's upper arm, after removing the bandages Kensi had carefully put on.  
>"Told-ya it was alright. Why go to a hospital and waste any time in here?" Sam grumbled as he noticed how the nurse left the large ward with a list of the materials she would need to redress the wound.<p>

Without too much of a hint, Kensi motioned to another corner where a serious looking nurse checked on Hetty, who breathed out while coughing once again.  
>Nevertheless, the voice of their operation manager sounded remarkable strong when she said: "Mister Hanna. Remember that once in a hospital, one should show one's gratitude of all the medical attention one needs. That goes for you as well."<p>

"As it does for you," Deeks mentioned rather cheeky at Hetty. He had noticed how the tiny but hardy older woman had already brushed off the nurse. "But, ladies and gentlemen, we need to make sure we all are in a minty condition to face the future. Gazes sharp to find that needle in a haystack."

Hetty nodded. "We might need Mister Callen around to give us a hand."

The three agents shot glances at each other that even a not too clever person would have caught. That was when Kensi told Hetty that it was Callen who was missing and who they needed to find. She put her hand on Hetty's shoulder and this time managed to lower her voice to a level that sounded comforting enough. "Never mind, I'm sure we'll succeed in tracing him, and find him, Hetty."

The nearly desperate look on the older woman's face shocked her, as did her words "But, dear girl, mister Callen will not know who he is dealing with. I fear there are more devils off a leash than he might realize."

o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)

**NCIS Office of Special Projects || Los Angeles**

There was a map on the large screen and while Nell and Eric had rotated their chairs and worked with their handheld computers right now, Eric typed the addresses they knew so far and red dots occurred on the screen.

"So, this is the really last known location he lived?" Nell stood up and moved closer to the screen. She frowned and asked "How long did he live in there?"

Again, Eric looked at the information. "It's odd. We never knew or noticed, did we? Angelo moved in four years ago. Do you think—"

She swirled around and faced him as she stated "THINK? Right now I simply know Angelo must have met Keelson. Heck, they were practically neighbors Eric. Their apartments were on the same floor."

He thought about it for some seconds, then mentioned "Do you know your neighbors, Nell?"

She tilted her head slightly, then slowly shook her head. "There's a difference between knowing and knowing, you know." She let a quick giggle escape as she realized what she just said. "You're right Eric. It might not mean anything at all. Yet, it puzzles me. Hetty would have known, wouldn't she? Then why did she never tell us? Though… it was in a period Angelo wasn't under suspicion at all."  
>She slowly sat down and started to use her own computer again. "He was already working on that Brunson-case."<br>Then she blew out a deep sigh. "There are no records whatsoever that indicate Paul Angelo and Callen ever met. Maybe we should skip this search."

A satisfied smile came from her older coworker. "Maybe we should start thinking out of the box."

"Well, if that's the case, you know Deeks isn't around."

"So? It might still work. So, what if Keelson was the one who dictated some things to Paul Angelo. He was manipulative, this Keelson. Even Callen experienced that. We all did."

"What if it has to do something with Hetty after all? What if Paul Angelo simply got scared, seeing that Callen was around. Maybe admitting Callen is a better agent. You know, with Callen's reputation in all those agencies?"

Eric shook his head. "Can't imagine a thing like that. Angelo never looked like he'd be impressed by any coworkers at all."

"Something from the past then? We don't know…" Nell turned to read the digital files once again. "We don't know Paul Angelo's first few years. If his parents were Russian, why would the boy have an Italian, an American name? We still don't know…"

Her thoughts were interrupted by one of the special ringtones Eric had installed for the phone on their shared desk.  
>Nell looked up, let the phone ring two more times before she answered "Winnipeg Sun, this is Nell speaking, how may I help you?"<p>

She listened carefully as she meanwhile digested both the relief as the worry when she heard what the person told her.

"Erhm… Gilles. Wait, let me ask—" She watched Eric and nodded as he gestured 'thumbs up'. She then simply asked aloud "Eric, the latest job Gilles Carlson worked on was at Volgodonsk, right?"  
>The tech understood. "Let me check…" He deliberately went through paperwork, so loud anyone should be able to hear. "Yeah, he should be in there with Sam."<p>

Nell then got back to the person on the phone, while Eric had already started tracing the number and trying to triangulate the location. "Did you get that, sir? So, you just told me he's with you in Vulhedar and he has been in a car accident. He asked for his comrade—yes, I'll see what I can do. So, Vulhedar, that is in Russia too? Uh-huh, Ukraine. That's odd. Anyway, as I just said, I will try and contact his partner. Any chance we can we get back to you by phone?"  
>She nodded and took a pencil and scribbled some numbers, knowing right now Eric's work to trace the call was no longer necessary. "Thank you so much, sir."<p>

She disconnected and looked up. "So?"

"How about that! This is really is 'out of the box', don't you think? You see, Nell, in the end all will be well that ends well. Like right now." Eric concluded, leaning back satisfied by what they now knew. Then, he pushed the pre-dial number which would get him connect to Sam.

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><p><em>I do hope you liked this chapter - the last one for this year :-) <em>  
><em>Please do review. I'm very grateful for all those lovely words and thoughts you have left already<em>


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8**

**Detour**

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><p><span><strong>Vulhedar, Ukraine<strong>

He had closed his eyes, tired of thinking about the 'why' and the 'what if' of this all.

Why him? Why here? Why Ukraine...

No plausible reasons had come up so far and there were hardly any scenarios Callen could think out. Instead worries for what this man, Theo Roslare, might hear from calling the Ops team were passing his thoughts.  
>What if things had gotten seriously wrong with his team?<p>

Then he heard the shuffling footsteps of the older man, who moved on thick woolen socks through his house, coming to the small room he was in.  
>Too fast, Callen opened his eyes and turned to the door opening. It made him feel sick immediately and he softly moaned as he swallowed some times.<p>

"Listen young man, I think I will need to help to get you to catch some sleep. One or more pills can do the trick. And maybe," he said, now a more soothing tone of voice, "it will calm you if I told you that the woman who answered my phone-call, I think Nell was her name, told me your coworker Sam had called in your office worried about you. She's going to call him right away and tell him to pick you up. He'd better take you to a hospital."

Callen hummed confirming that he understood, resisting the usual short nod. A hospital. Sam. Alright. Softly he asked "What time?"

"Before your friend arrives in here, you can have at least one full hour to sleep. Better than a slumber which gives you more headaches."

"No pills."  
>Callen felt like he repeated these two words all his life.<p>

Roslare did not speak for a moment, then said: "I'd better leave you to rest then."

Callen sensed the other man might feel insulted so he added "Thanks for offering Roslare. It's just that… most pills make me too sluggish too long. Perhaps sleep will come soon."

"Right, son. I'll leave you to it".

Roslare came back ten minutes later, only to see Callen having dozed off indeed. Watching the younger man, he felt that this guest was someone of many secrets. And he was grateful that the man had trusted him enough like he did, and glad he could be of any help at all.

o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)

**Rostov-on-Don || Yuzhnyy Okruzhnoy Meditsinskiy Tsentr**

While the same nurse was stitching and then redressing Sam's arm in a pace that made all the others think she had all week, Hetty had changed into a warm kid's sports suit. Meanwhile, she was talking to the nurse in that language the other three agents did not understand.

Then she nodded and told her team "As for the wound on Mr. Hanna's arm, it should be kept clean by using clean water only. Fresh bandages once a day."

He nodded, it was something he'd do automatically and there was no real need to have a nurse telling him this, but politely as Hetty had told him to be, Sam also responded 'da' – one of the words he knew in Russian.

"How about you, Hetty?" he wanted to know. After all, she had been in a poor condition earlier that day.

The older operation manager pursed her lips shortly, as if she was thinking how to answer. Then she said "Obviously, I have been treated well before we arrived in this hospital. All vitals are back to normal, Mr. Hanna. Apart from some medication I am as ready to go on as you are."  
>A small but sad smile appeared on her face. "We do need to find Mr. Callen soon, as you all know."<p>

She had hardly spoken those words when Sam's phone rang. The look on the nurses face was one of despair – this group of people were definitely in a hurry and never did seem to really care about their physical condition.

Sam looked at his jacket, unreachable for him right now.

"I'll get it," Deeks then simply said.

o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)

**NCIS Office of Special Projects || Los Angeles**

Eric swiveled his chair, still the satisfied grin on his face when he said "Would have wanted to see their faces too, you know. You'd better book those return tickets for the team, Nell. From what Deeks told me, Hetty is alright and even better now she knows Callen is alright as well."

The small information analyst nodded and shove back some of her red hair. "From what I see, a detour will be easier than travelling through the Donetsk area again. And this man told me that Callen should see a doctor. I figure that Mariupol will the best option."

Eric watched some maps and pointed out as he nodded "By car, it's 'immer gerade aus'". As he noticed his teammate's non-understanding glance, he explained "Straight ahead."

o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)

**Rostov-on-Don **

The bright yellow car Deeks was now driving made lots of people look over their shoulders.  
>"What's so creeping special about driving this car?" he muttered.<p>

"Gosh, I thought it was you they were looking at Deeks," Kensi replied from the backseat. "Being unshaven and obviously living without a hair comb."

From beside her, Hetty shook her head. "It is not that, although I do agree with Miss Blye. This country isn't all about the homeless look, despite that you don't have a home in here indeed. A little more care might do, Mr. Deeks."  
>She smiled at the junior agent who bit her lip not to burst out in laughter as she noticed how Deeks started nervously to comb his hair with his left hand.<p>

Now Hetty scraped her throat and said "For your information, the Prime-Minister of this country drives a Lada Kalina just like this."

"Seriously?" Sam said. "This color, this car?" He sat crammed in the passenger seat and used the rearview mirror to look at their boss. "Do we feel safe in a car like this, knowing that that man is not the most popular guy in this country or abroad?"

"We'll be safe enough as long as Deeks is driving," Kensi snorted. "No way one could mix them two up."

Hetty shook her head, deep down loving the way this group of people managed to banter. Now they knew Callen was going to be okay and where they could pick him up, there was a sense of relief which showed in the behavior of these three agents.  
>Still, there were things bothering her more than she had told the others before. This might be the best time.<br>So she started, again scraping her throat after some deep coughs. "There are some things you all need to know about Paul Angelo…"

Knowing she had the attention of the others, she continued. "You see, the name he was born with was never Paul Angelo. He was born near Volgodonsk, in the smaller town of Tsimlyansk as Pyotr Pavlovitsj Gavrilov. At the age of four, he came to live in the US."  
>When she saw that Kensi wanted to ask something, Hetty put up her hand and continued, "Yes, like Grace Stevens. Yes, perhaps nearly similar to Mr. Callen himself, although that situation was different because… well, you all know."<p>

She breathed in deep and went on. "Paul was a loner. Jealous of everybody who had more, of whoever was better. Never a team player. He fought with older kids, trying to prove he was worth being seen. Once in the police force, we thought—I thought he'd be okay. But he was dismissed several times because of insubordination. That is why I got him into NCIS."

"Well, he screwed that job up as well, didn't he?" Deeks stated.

"He did indeed, in the end," Hetty admitted with a deep sigh. "But he used to be a great agent too. If only he hadn't been that envious. You see… once, when Lara Macy put together the team – your team – he applied for the vacant job of senior agent. The very same job that Mr. Callen got, as you all know. Which caused a, how shall I say, an aversion against Mr. Callen. Perhaps even stronger, some kind of hatred."

"And he knew that Callen was the one to contact Brunson and his wife?" Sam asked, angry now.

"He must have sensed it."

Kensi thought about it. "So, all that time he's been playing us, and you, to get to Callen?"

"Perhaps, Miss Blye. On the other hand, he was already not to be trusted anymore. Trying to get the best out of every deal. Which Mr. Beale only recently found out about. Which Mr. Angelo found out about and which was why he ordered Carl Brown to get to Mr. Beale as well."

"How's that for a co-worker," Deeks muttered. "When we can't trust our own people—ah, well, your people…"

"Indeed, Mr. Deeks. Which is why I sent Mr. Angelo away."

Sam nodded, understanding. "And you suspected him to be the one who gave Brown orders?"

The older woman now seriously said "It was like a simple formula. One that our young colleagues at the Ops center should have found out too, IF they knew what they were looking for."

"Like one and one makes two?" Deeks said.

"Even better, Mr. Deeks. Or perhaps worse, if you wish. How about one and one makes three?"

o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)

**Vulhedar, Ukraine**

From the small kitchen table, Theo Roslare looked up from the newspaper he was reading.  
>A grey Peugeot pulled over in front of his house. The man that descended looked up from a piece of paper, then decided this was indeed the address he was looking for.<p>

Roslare checked his watch and was surprised that after the phone call, the man who was announced as Sam arrived this much sooner than he expected. He shook his head as he realized those Americans were all the same: driving too fast on the Russian and Ukraine roads that had no speed limits but the bumps and holes that were everywhere.

Then, he got up to open the door for the well-dressed man who came his way.

o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)

**On the road || passed the border into Ukraine**

Kensi glanced at Hetty as she asked "What do you mean, three?"

"Well then, I just told you about Brown and Angelo. Both of them happened to be not only NCIS personnel, they also lived in the same apartment block. In which" and she looked at the others, "in which another person lived some years ago. You all remember Keelson?"

They were quiet for a second, then Sam exclaimed "I'll be damned… Seriously, Hetty? And why haven't you shared this until now?"

She slowly nodded. "Because, Mr. Hanna, I never had expected it to be related. Not until yesterday, that is."

Their discussion ended when a group of military personnel halted every single car on the road. Checking all papers they had on them took a while. When they finally were able to continue their trip through the Ukraine, Sam directed Deeks to the address Nell had given them.

Later than they had expected, the yellow Lada pulled over in front of the house.

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><p><em>Thank you all for reading!<em>


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9**

**Detour**

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><p>AN I realize this is -again-a short chapter. Hope you like it anyway :-)

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><p><span><strong>Vuhledar, Ukraine<strong>

From the backseat of the yellow Lada, Kensi was the first to leave the car when Deeks had parked it. She opened the trunk and took the sports bag. Between the bottles of shower gel, body-cream and shampoo, she found the items they now might need. Three guns which Callen had managed to get a hold of immediately when they'd arrived in Rostov-on-Don.  
>There had been four, but Callen had dropped his accidentally in the water of the basement when he got to save Hetty.<p>

She handed Deeks and Sam one of the guns. Then she hesitated and smiled apologetically at Hetty and gave her the last one. "I've got my knife, don't worry," she said at the older woman who then shook her head.  
>"You may hand that knife to me, dear. The gun will be better in your hands."<p>

"Right," Kensi said, handing the item to Hetty. She then got something else from the bag and handed the others a small box of ammunition. "You both have a pocket to stock those?" she asked.

"Sure." Sam quickly checked his magazine, shove the gun in the waistband of his jeans and decided he was ready to go. He watched the junior partners who were as eager as himself to finally meet with Callen.  
>Then Sam straightened his back and walked toward the front door. When he came nearer the look on his face changed from relaxed to worried. He halted and so did the others. "Odd. Door's open," he whispered, grabbing for his gun now.<p>

He gestured at the others to come closer and have his back, meanwhile hoping Hetty would stay behind and keep her eyes open to what else was happening.

When the three of them had come closer, Kensi peeked through the smallest of both the kitchen windows. Inside, there were no signs of anything strange. Nothing seemed off – there was a cup on the kitchen table and a newspaper next to it. No signs of struggle, nothing.  
>She shook her head and joined the other two.<br>With his gun at the ready, Deeks then carefully pushed the door further open, while Same was the first to step into the house, fearing what they'd find.

There was nothing off in the kitchen, just as Kensi had seen from the outside. The kitchen led to a living room. The usual 'clear' came from Deeks, who did not notice anything unusual.

Then Kensi checked the adjoining den, separated by a wall opening only. She gasped "Guys, in here!"  
>Immediately, she kneeled next to an older man who appeared to be lying lifeless on the floor. Checking with two fingers in the man's neck, she was relieved to feel his pulse. "Alive," she simply stated.<p>

Deeks squatted next to her and looked at the man. "You think he's the one who called Nell?"

"He has to be," she shrugged. Then she sighed deeply and asked "No sign of Callen?"

"This." Sam had come into the room, holding Callen's leather jacket.

"Damnit," Kensi exclaimed. "Now what?"

"Now, if you'd all breathed in deep, you would have noticed. There's something in the air." Calmly, from behind, Hetty said "So I suggest we open all the windows and try to awaken this man. Then we can listen to what he has to tell us. And immediately after that, we're going to hunt down the one who's responsible for all of this. Angelo. Before more damage is done," she ended, softer and sadder now.

"Whatever damage was done, do you think it was done by this?" Deeks asked as he picked up a small container. "I do, and I suppose you will do to, think that this is what has been used to… to floor this guy?"  
>Sam simply nodded as a reply. Deeks breathed out deeply, then took his phone and made a photo of the label on the container and pressed the pre-dial to send a short message with it to Eric.<p>

o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)

**NCIS Office of Special Projects || Los Angeles**

"Copy that," Nell said. She then went through her notebook and checked. "Nope. This number must have been a cell phone. See if there's any in there. Or, if Roslare is in a position to talk, ask him. And we will keep in touch. Sure, after we know more. Will you do so too?" she chattered rather nervously.

She disconnected and seconds after that, Eric looked straight into her hazel eyes.

Nell took a deep breath and then started to explain, while typing at the same time "Now, listen up. Paul Angelo's real name is Pyotr Pavlovitsj Gavrilov. Let's see what we have on him. See if we can locate the man. There's more, Deeks just found the regular phone in the house of this man, Theo Roslare. Weird, y'think? An Englishman in Ukraine. Well, it wasn't that phone he called us with. Which was a mistake that nearly cost him his life. Hetty figures out that Angelo, or Gavrilov, managed to tap into the call on one of Angelo's own phones. Sharing data, stealing intel, whatever. We need to check this number." She paused and inserted the number into a world-wide system. "So—"

Her coworker interrupted "Carfentanil or Wildnil, one of the most potent opioids known. You can dope an elephant with it in seconds, with a dart. About 500 to 1000 times more effective as let's say morphine. Too dangerous for humans—"

"Unless it's used with a gas, like halothane," Nell finished his short lecture. She then bit the inside of her cheeks and added "This is the same stuff the Chechen used, in Moscow, remember?"

"Right. So, fresh air will be all that's needed to wake up from it?" Eric wanted to know, since he did nót remember.

Slowly, Nell nodded. "Fresh air. Unless there naloxone around. Which, in this situation, I do not think there is. What's worse – Callen is still missing."

o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)

**Somewhere else || one hour later**

Only that short moment after waking up and before opening his eyes, he realized something was off. It felt odd, like he'd slept longer than the short hour Theo Roslare had told him. Callen wondered about the awful bad taste in his mouth and unfortunately, the nausea had not stopped. In fact, it had worsened.

His head felt muzzy when he finally opened his eyes. It was colder now and dark, and although still dazy, he recognized the movement. He was in a car. Still, his eyes did not catch any of the usual aspects around him. No views of traffic passing by, no cloudy skies, no palm-trees or skyscrapers. Then the realization came that he was in Russia. No, Ukraine. Nevertheless, he should be able to SEE what was happening around him, yet all was pitch-dark.

Things were off. Not only with him, but also with where he was right now.  
>Callen started sweating and breathing faster. His brain registered things he did not feel. And his body felt like it never belonged to his brain. There was no pain, no stiffness of lying in an usual position.<br>If he had not been a special agent, he would never know what had happened. However, Callen knew. He was drugged in a way he had never experienced before and he could not remember how.

Blinking his eyes, he tried to concentrate on one point only, hoping the awful fuzzy feeling would leave. Eventually, it had to.

Unfortunately it took a while and he never felt he dozed off. The sudden light in front of him made him put his hands up to protect his eyes.

The voice that nearly sung "Wakey Wakey, mister superspy" was familiar. Paul Angelo continued "C'mon Callen. You'd better freshen up – I have some pleasant surprises to come. But before that, you and I should have some nice conversations. And I'd hate to do that when you as drowsy as you are right now."

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><p><em>Thank you for reading. Please do leave a review, those are very welcome - as ever!<em>


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10**

**Detour**

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><p><em>Thank you wotumba1, skippy, ilse23, fanficforyou, BH72, bluedogsrock, guest, Theresa, EvaMcBain for your continuous support and great reviews!<em>

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><p><span><strong>Disclaimer:<strong> Yes, it is a great team that Shane Brennan and CBS offered us. Very grateful to use them for the storyline, but they're never mine!

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><p>o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)<p>

**Somewhere else || one hour later**

Callen squinted from the sudden burst of light that reached his eyes. Though still feeling sick when moving too fast, he did scan the surroundings and his own position. Without giving away any of his inner feelings, he was surprised to find himself in the backseat of a grey car which was parked inside a trailer.  
>Great find. If only he wasn't the one who was held captive.<br>But then, now he definitely knew it was Paul Angelo he dealt with and Callen realized Angelo was a great agent as well. Inwardly, he corrected his own thoughts. Angelo had been a great agent.  
>By now, he was a great opponent. A sly and unpredictable opponent.<br>Callen hoisted himself up to get out of the car, his body still reluctant to follow his mind, but he hád to look around, hád to find out more.  
>Now he finally stood up, he saw how the car stood securely lashed inside the trailer. It was driven in from the same way Paul Angelo had entered the trailer as well: from the backside.<p>

"Were you listening at all, Callen?" The nearly black and narrow eyes of the former NCIS agent showed nothing of emotion. These eyes were carefully observing the still groggy man opposite of him though. The man who was now controlled by him.  
>Well, he did have some assistance from two companions. Just in case this blue eyed agent with his great reputation, a legend in several agencies, would outsmart him.<p>

Callen blinked his eyes several times. Not only to clear his head. It was clearer already, clearer than he wanted Angelo to think. He needed to win time. Time to find out where he was, to find out what had happened exactly. Perhaps he could provoke Angelo and try to overrule the other man.

The smallest, yet all-knowing smile appeared on Paul Angelo's face when he said "You don't want to talk? Well, that's up to you. But you see, Callen, there's so much more about you I know. If you want to play the game, we will. If not, it's quite easy. I do prefer some competition, you know. But eventually, it'll be ME who wins the game. And you want to know why? Because I will always be the one who knows something about you that you want to know too. Something that will surprise you. It'll always be your weak spot."

Slowly, Callen closed his eyes again. How many times had he heard things like this? It was true, things had taken another turn than he – than the team – had expected beforehand. And yes, he wanted to know more. Know now.  
>In a flat voice he queried "How come you knew we would be here?"<p>

A loud snigger sounded. "You're so predictable, G. Callen. I know – we knew – you did this before. Remember, when your dear boss disappeared to Prague? It was you who came running after her. And you only, Callen. The team followed you."

He was confused. "But—"

With a sly grin the other man interrupted. "Yeah. Like I said. WE knew. And you know what, Callen? I'll leave you to ponder over that one." he told. Then he said rather matter-of-factly: "Now, I had expected the tiny evil witch would not survive. But she's tougher than I imagined."

A short, grim smile appeared on Callen's face. "In the end she'll be the last person you will see before you'll face death."  
>He saw it coming - the look on Angelo's face changed so soon. In the blink of the eye the man lost control. Aggression took over and the sudden hard punch on his left shoulder made Callen fall back against the car. Instinctively he knew something in his shoulder – that same shoulder that was already hurt - was dislocated. There was no instant pain, probably because of the drugged feeling that still controlled his system. Still, he grunted and clenched his jaw. No matter this man called him predictable, Paul Angelo was exactly the opposite. And perhaps more dangerous than Callen expected.<p>

Calmly now, Angelo continued: "As I said, Callen, you should freshen up. No foolish actions. Boris and Alek will be around too. We've got some more hours to go and I'd hate to see you would, how shall I say, take a sanitary stop in my car."

He then motioned with a gun he'd taken. "Get up on your feet and do exactly as I say."

Whatever it was Paul Angelo wanted from him, Callen had already decided he'd find out by doing exactly the things Angelo would never expect him to do. Playing the game, like Angelo mentioned. Well, he'd get what he wanted. Callen himself called it 'turn the table' and it had everything to do with switching roles. He'd feign ignorance. In the end, the others would start explaining, would want to share. It was a game Callen played many times before and so far, it worked.

So, when Paul Angelo repeated his command, Callen simply obeyed. Wobbly he got up and started walking.

o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)

**Vuhledar || Ukraine**

"Sam, he's finally waking up."  
>Kensi noticed how the older man started to move as he regained consciousness. So far, she had been in the small den with Theo Roslare, observing the street from the backside of the house. Sam and Deeks had put the man on the sofa and opened the windows.<p>

Wise and green eyes opened widely when the name 'Sam' was mentioned.  
>Sam sent the man a comforting nod and forced himself to smile when he said "You don't have to be afraid. I already know you called with my co-worker Nell and she warned me. We already know somebody else came—"<p>

Roslare nodded but moaned as nausea took over. Kensi offered him a glass of water. It took a minute before the man was able to speak again. More monotonous he now spoke "She told me a man called Sam would come for Gilles Carlson. He was here soon, very soon. I let him in. He held a briefcase and when he opened it, I was not—I mean, he did not look or act suspicious."

Kensi got up and switched places with Hetty. After all, she figured she and Deeks were in the best shape to keep an eye on what went round the house. She overlooked what would be the backyard, which bordered the main street through the village. They had come in from the other entrance. The front door was one of the nine in a quiet side street.  
>She heard the man talk "He came in a grey car. A plain, grey sedan." Then, Sam asked if he could describe the man who came. "Asian, but American too. Well dressed."<p>

Kensi knew enough. She'd known all the time, from the moment Hetty explained she had gone to visit him – of course it was Paul Angelo. And in one way or another, he had managed to trace Callen to this house. Like Deeks had expected before, it was with a cell phone that did not belong to Theo Roslare.

She looked at her partner. "You think Eric can trace a car like he just described?"

Deeks shrugged. "I'd better ask him, right?"

o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)

**NCIS Office of Special Projects || Los Angeles**

"Really Deeks? That's all you have?" Eric leaned back in his chair, listening to what Deeks had to tell. "Grey, Sedan… No number plates?"  
>Meanwhile, he had opened two computer programs. The first was designed by one of the other agencies and it spotted about every traffic camera on the world. The other was a program that enabled them to calculate and estimate the time it would take for a car to reach another point.<br>Eric worked fast. He scrolled through the reports and updates he and Nell had already entered in the e-file systems and he soon found the address he was looking for.  
>Now he and Nell would have to work fast to deduct. "We'll be back with you Marty. And we'll make it soon."<p>

He disconnected and looked at his partner. She shove back a strand of hair and already worked her keyboard. "Seeing the size of this gas container and the way the drug works, I'd say it was used about an hour before the others found Theo Roslare. So, what we're looking for is around is a start at… camera one 3.15 in the afternoon, Ukraine time. Next passage should be driving in to the village estimated at 3.28 PM."

Both of them watched the fast forward of a camera feed that was legally obtained. After some short moments, Nell shook her head. "Nothing." She faced her partner and repeated "There's nothing I saw. You?"

Eric sighed. "Let's try again. Slow now." Unwittingly he adjusted his glasses. A small frown appeared on his face. "It looks like…" he stopped the feed, stood up and pointed on the big screen. "This could be the one. But that truck simply then simply blocks it."  
>He fixed the screen and tried to enhance the picture.<p>

"It might be the one. Might also not be…" Nell raised her brow. "Trace it further backward. It should be clearer from 2.48 on at one camera earlier. If it's been driven on the same road, of course."

Eric looked at her, confused. "We'd better go forward. There's a cam at 3 minutes", he pointed at the system which covered the town of Vuhledar. "Which ever is the route they want to go, the car should pass this point."

"Let's have it run simultaneously," Nell suggested.

It proved to be the best solution in the end. It took only two minutes to find what they needed. Amazed by the ingenuity of it all, Nell took her phone, put it on speaker and called Deeks.

o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)

**Vuhledar || Ukraine**

"He is—he never was a journalist, right?" Theo Roslare shook his head, knowing he was right. Immediately he felt sick and he grabbed the empty fruit bowl Kensi had put there. Once he got his breathing back under control he repeated "Right?"

"That's correct Mr. Roslare," was all that Hetty confirmed. She had taken a seat at the chair that Roslare himself had put there.

"So. Who is he? Who are you, what are you?" His wise green eyes observed the mysterious small and older woman next to him, trying to label her. Then he sent her a satisfied smile and said "Of course. CIA, or something like that. I should've known." He paused a second and continued softer, "So he lives a dangerous life. That's why he was so... fearless. Eager to find out more about his opponents, who were after him. And those terrible scars..."

She nodded, looked away and responded sadly: "The boy never had an easy life."

Theo Roslare scraped his throat. "My son - our son - would have had about the same age. He…Our boy died when he was 23. A stupid accident when he came home in between two semesters, wanting to help me, his dad. He died back there in the fields. Maria, my wife, never got over it. She left me, left life, 5 months later."  
>He bit his lips. "This man Gilles, I don't think he used his real name, reminded me of our boy. Our Georg. I'd like to think Georg would have grown up like—like your man."<br>Both of them were quiet, then Roslare went on: "You need to find him. I suppose men like him, people like the other ones you have in here, are special." He let out a loud breathe through his nose and added "Perhaps the man whose name I don't know will once safe your city."

Again, Hetty slowly nodded. "He did that already. Several times in fact, Mr. Roslare."  
>There wasn't anything she needed to add. It was an awkward situation to hear a total stranger talk about Callen in an affectionate way and it made her feel strangely proud.<br>"But you are right. We need to find him, and find him soon. He may be not aware of the danger he is facing. Besides, we are hours and hours behind of him."

Then Deeks peeked around the corner and asked "A word please, Hetty?"

o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)

**Vuhledar || Ukraine**

A gas station. Perfect, Callen thought. Like everywhere he'd been so far, gas stations had safety cameras, both on the inside as on the outside. Things would be the same in this OKKO-station. He quickly scanned the filling station and the shop and café that went with it. Number 0401. Callen recollected the number would correspond with the road number. Which meant they were on route T0401. The road from Donetsk to Sebastopol.

"No tricks, Callen. I know them all, remember?" Angelo sent him a knowing glance.

He sighed unnoticed. Callen realized all too well that Paul Angelo had the same training and he had been good in what he did too.  
>So far, Paul Angelo had been able to keep himself out of sight for any outsiders. He still did, even now when he was with him. Would there be a moment Angelo would make a mistake? Or that Callen could find a moment to contact anyone who could help?<p>

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><p><em>Thanks for reading. Please let me know your thoughts on this chapter, the story and how it will or should go on!<em>


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11**

**Detour**

* * *

><p>o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)<p>

"A truck and a trailer?" Hetty shook her head. "Oh goodie…"

Deeks nodded and said "Yep. I just checked the road round the back. Looks like our LA folks were very right. There were tire marks that fit with what our little Red Riding Hood just described. And if we hurry, we might catch up with them."

The older woman pursed her lips like she did whenever she needed to think things over. "Now then, Mr. Deeks, do we know the exact whereabouts of this vehicle?"

"Nope. Well, not yet. The only thing Nell could tell for sure was that it should be driving on the T0401, which is the shortest way from Donetsk to Sebastopol. But as long as we don't know why, where and to and with whom, it's difficult to find out. We can catch up with 'it' if we hurry up and leave." He had dug his hands deep in the pockets of his jeans and faced the Operations Manager. Then he shrugged and added "Just saying."

Hetty rubbed her arms, then steepled her hands as she turned to the older man. "So, Mr. Roslare, is there anyone we should contact who could stay around with you?"

The owner of the house they were staying in right now, looked her in the eyes as he confidently spoke "I'll be fine, Hetty."  
>She tilted her head slightly and wondered how on earth it was possible that those words could just as well be spoken by the blue eyed man they were looking for…<p>

"Hetty?" Sam hoped to leave soon, eager to get his partner back where he was needed – as a team lead. And since Theo Roslare had told them before Callen was wounded, Sam knew that never mind the stubbornness of the man, Callen might not be able to get away himself.

"Yes, Mr. Hanna, I heard both you and Mr. Deeks and I do understand your urge to leave. So, just grab your things and, for heaven's sake, start the engines and heat that yellow monster."

o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)

**Tarasivka || Ukraine**

The sign on the outside of the OKKO shop and café that went with the gas station said 'Tarasivka' and Callen figured it was the name of one of the villages nearby.

Now he walked and breathed in the cool air, the drugged feeling quickly left his body. A battered and bruised feeling was taking over and without looking, he knew something was wrong with his shoulder.

Like Theo Roslare had explained, three of the fingers on his left hand might be broken and he understood too well that the headaches were partly a result of the car crash as well. Callen realized that he eventually needed time to recover.  
>Slowly, he breathed out.<p>

"A toilet visit only, my friend," Angelo mentioned again. "And it's up to you what you want after that. Coffee, water or an injection. If you want to talk, we'll talk. If I, or my partners in here, find out you're about to do something we don't like, there's a syringe waiting anyway. Am I clear?"

"Sure," was the only thing he said. In fact, he did not even answer any of the questions Angelo asked so far.  
>Once inside he regretted that he never realized how hard it would be to do the things he was used to do using two hands. Because of this, his visit to the men's room probably lasted longer than Angelo was happy with. Inwardly Callen knew Paul Angelo still did not underestimate him, not even now he was hurt. He was right, since it was one of Angelo's large assistants Boris who finally entered the room too. And Boris did sway his jacket open to simply show he was armed.<p>

"Yeah, I'm on my way," Callen said. He understood that right here, right now, it was useless to take any unprepared steps to take on those three guys single-handedly or to get away from them.  
>Boris guided him back into the trailer and gestured Callen was to take the same backseat he had been occupying before. Much to his surprise, Paul Angelo was waiting for him inside of the grey car. He had taken the passenger seat, holding two styrofoam cups filled with coffee.<p>

"Again, no foolish actions Callen. I need you alive, you see."

o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)

**Vuhledar || Ukraine**

"Any chance we might find out where they're headed to?" Kensi asked, addressing no-one in particular.

"To the west" Deeks answered. "You see, that's the way the road leads them to."

"Well, thanks for being so helpful, Marty." From behind the wheel, Sam shot a glance at the blond detective next to him. "Are the wiz kids diving into that matter as well?"

"They are, and as soon as they find out more, they'll call. Eric is going to try to hack into the numbers that were used on that phone Roslare used to call Nell. Well, try legally first, of course, if possible," Deeks now said, seriously. "Perhaps we'll get some GPS thing to track in the same time. Or else, see, which contacts were used. There has to be something they can find in the systems, right?"

"Perhaps with some more details, they may indeed, Mr. Deeks. I assume you did tell our young co-workers about the fact that Keelson and Angelo were closer than we understood?" Hetty remarked. There was something in that relationship that she could not lay her finger on, yet.

o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)

**Tarasivka || Ukraine**

Silently, he sipped the warm coffee Angelo had handed him. Callen wished he still had his jacket with him. Temperatures were low compared to Los Angeles by now. He had changed into a dry jeans and t-shirt after he got Hetty out of the wet basement and the man who had taken care of him for the short period probably took his jacket off.

"Still nothing you want to know?" Angelo threw the empty cup from the open window. Callen didn't respond to it. He noticed Angelo was in some kind of urge to tell more, as if time was ticking. Despite the fact he did want to hear more, he was patient enough.

"Boris is going to get this car out of the trailer. You'd better hold on. As I said, I need to keep you alive." He then turned to his partner, buckled up and chuckled "So you'd better count down as well."

The large, dark haired man came from behind the car and got in. He shifted the car into reverse and slowly drove it backwards from the trailer. From where he sat, Callen gladly noticed how this movement must have been picked up by the camera that covered the parking from the inside of the gas station.

The other partner of Paul Angelo, the one he had called Alek, then came from behind the trailer, closed its doors and walked to the truck.

"Alek will drive this truck away. He'll be headed to Kiev. Your guys in Los Angeles will have already picked up the truck, you know. I know how that red haired girl thinks she can outsmart everyone, but she might be quieter if she knew Gwenny is listening too. She, Gwenny, sends secured apps, you know, and keeps me posted."

Gwenny… the shy, new girl who handled their administration, their financial paperwork. She'd been screened too, sure thing. So how did someone like her get into the office? He hid his frustration about it, realizing that he and the team thought they caught the mole already, only to realize Brown had not worked alone.

So, Gwenny was the one who informed Angelo that they were on their way, following Hetty. When Angelo spoke about 'We', he meant her.

"Some people are motivated when they smell money. For others, sweet talk will do just fine. Let's say Gwenny is extremely impressed by a bunch of flowers, some jewelry and promises." He smirked as he watched Callen closely. "I'd say you should try it too, but that would be useless. You should've tried, Callen."

o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)

**NCIS Office of Special Projects || Los Angeles**

"Hey Nell, look, the truck took a turn up North. They're probably on the move to Kiev. You'd better brief Deeks about it." Eric said as he put his index finger on his lips immediately after that, then pointed at his screen.

He took her notebook and started writing, then handed her the paper. 'Don't speak, just read. Hacked into the phone and checked numbers. Look at the list.'

Once she noticed, all she did was simply gasp. For a brief second, she wondered what to do. Then she took her tablet and started sending a secured message to Deeks in which she explained she was going to give him a call with a complete different message.

"Where do you think they are taking Callen?" she then asked Eric. "I mean… up North? Do you think it has anything to do with his past, his father?"

o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)

**T0401 || Ukraine**

"Do you think this is connected to his past, some Russian connections perhaps?" Kensi asked after Deeks had read the message Nell had sent.

"Well dear. It appears that former agent Angelo knows a lot more about Mr. Callen than we ever expected. Which makes me wonder…"  
>She did not finish her sentence and the others were quiet too, waiting for what remark might come next.<p>

Then Sam said "Well, I was just envisioning Angelo and Keelson meeting. Keelson had all those files with infos on politicians, VIP's and agents. I mean, there were two file-cases on you Hetty. One on Callen. So, this Angelo is pissed with his job already and he and Keelson make a deal. We never got to see all files around. But what if Angelo agreed on selling this intel for and with Keelson?"

"Like using that, ehrm, that program which sounds as a nice wine? You know. They used it to find Hetty's places."

"You mean Chauvenet? Oh goodie… " Hetty slowly breathed out. "But didn't Eric tell us months ago it disappeared from all servers?"

"Even so… Keelson died over two years ago." Sam argued. "And we know Keelson himself was sly and probably had plans he never managed to work out."

"By now we know how many personal information about Callen popped up ever since," Kensi said. She paused a bit before she went on. "Do we know anything about Angelo's income since his leave on NCIS already?"

Deeks turned to the two women on the backseat and answered "From what Nell let me know he's been practically out of cash."

"Oh goodie," Hetty repeated.

Then it was Deeks' phone that rang again.

o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)

**near Tarasivka || Ukraine**

Although his mind was in a whirl, Callen kept quiet. He needed to process the information Paul Angelo had given so far. It wasn't that much, and it bothered him that so far, he wasn't able to be any sharper, like he used to feel when in lead of a case.  
>But then, he didn't have his team around right now.<p>

"Gwenny was a shock, right?"  
>The nearly black eyes of the other man let their gaze going over Callen's face. He felt it, yet again, he managed to ignore it at the mean time.<p>

"Oh, come on Callen. Of course you want to know more of what I'm planning."

This was the best time to try and turn the table. Callen knew he was bluffing when he responded "Not really necessary. I bet Gwenny told you about the others already. Did you ever work in a team, Paul? Guess not. They're closing in, you know."

The self-control Paul Angelo always showed crumbled in a second and it was replaced by pure hate. "If you hadn't been Hetty's favorite, it would have been me in your position. It is always about you. Then there's Grace. And sure you remember Hunter. Me. But she always favored you."

Again, Callen didn't respond.

"Yeah. Like you did not know that it was never Macy who chose to work with you. Behind the scenes it was Hetty who directed it all. She's ignored me all the time. Like you were such a saint during your career."

Angelo looked in control again. Now, he communicated through the rear-view mirror, checking traffic behind their car, then facing the agent.  
>"The little witch keeps many redacted files, Callen. But never mind, it's all about making friends."<p>

"True friends?" Callen asked.

"Just picking those who might help you benefit in future time. You ever tried that? Don't think so. Trust issues. Things like that. You never liked it so far that others know things about you. Right? You see, we had a mutual acquaintance. Remember Keelson?"

"Never known him."

"But you killed him. And you managed to ruin his files. The paper ones, I mean. Yet there are so many things I know about you, G. Callen."

There it was. Like Callen had always suspected, Keelson had taken protective measures. Of course the man had copied the files to digital systems. He clenched his jaw and waited for what Angelo would reveal soon.

"Ever wondered what your real name is, Callen?"

In all honesty, he answered "Yes. If you know so much about me, you would know I have been looking for it until late last year."

"Well, I know mine. I've known it all my life – Pyotr Pavlovitsj Gavrilov. And you were called Callen. Do you know, Callen, that you're the last Callen around? You see, I dó know."

That was the moment Callen realized what it was all about.

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><p><em>You're welcome to share your thoughts - reviews are very welcome, as ever. And #Hoosier - there's more action to come. Really!<em>


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter 12**

**Detour**

* * *

><p><span><strong>NCIS Office of Special Projects || Los Angeles<strong>

"There," she pointed at the screen and nearly whispered. "Pit stop, and then they split up." Both of them noticed the grey car taking a different direction than the truck and trailer.

She trotted down the stairs, embracing her tablet with her left hand. Behind her Eric followed, trying to look just as excited as Nell managed to act.  
>"Crap... Granger is still not around," Nell said aloud. "Should we call director Vance and ask for a backup? Maybe if we'd stop that truck before it reaches Kiev..."<br>She even looked as if in doubt, but from beneath her eyelashes she did notice how Gwenny Davis started typing on her keyboard with renewed energy.

Looking at her tablet, Nell nodded at her partner. "See this?" She said with a smile and her hazel eyes sparked. It worked out just the way Eric had planned.

o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)

**On the road ahead**

Callen finally understood what happened.

Paul Angelo continued explaining "You're in many ways my ticket out now. I've finally outwitted you - admit it. You now understand it took some planning, but with all the information I have, I knew I could finally prove who's the cleverest one in the end. And hell, am I glad to have you in here."  
>He turned to face Callen once again and a sly smile appeared. "They offered me $ 300 grand for delivering you. It sounded alright with me."<p>

"They?" He needed to hear it – though deep down he knew already. Somehow they kept popping up - Comescus.  
>"You know things will not go like you expected in the end Paul. The only one you're really fooling is yourself," he said.<p>

A loud huff sounded. "Fooling who? Knowing I'm smarter than you is a great reward already. Then there's the second great thing I'll be owing you. With the money I'm getting paid by delivering you, I can start a new life. They do great new faces in Turkey. So, in fact I might even thank you. However I won't. I'm simply looking forward to see you go—well to say farewell."

His jaw was tight now he got to know what Angelo was planning. Time might be ticking indeed. Callen did trust his team to be hounding Angelo. They _hád_ to be informed already by what had happened during the past few hours. After all, Roslare had called Nell and Callen sincerely trusted the analyst and tech in Los Angeles. They always came with some trail or information that the others could work with.  
>But no matter he knew this, Callen did not know when or where Angelo had planned a meet-up.<br>Right now the only two persons he could rely on when it came to changing the situation were Angelo and himself…

"I can see you've got your mind set already Paul. Don't know how much time there's left, but just—"

The respond came quick and loud and angry again. "Just shut up."

Callen started rubbing his temples, realizing too late how much his left hand hurt. He had never really met with people who envied the life he'd lived so far. To him, it had been pretty miserable until the past few years. There was no real reason for Angelo to feel this hate, no reason things should get personal.  
>And sure, Angelo had been right when he mentioned that Callen had been no saint in his late teens. Perhaps it had been Hetty indeed who intervened at the right time, even at the right places. It had not been until lately that he felt he might be a team player after all. Felt that it was alright to share memories, share special moments with other people. People he trusted. Things and friends Angelo probably lacked. Which again, was not something to blame somebody else of.<br>And although he'd never been scared to die in the line of duty, to him things seemed all pretty messed up right now.

"Never trust a Comescu, Angelo."  
>Callen didn't know any real reason why he should mention this, yet he did.<p>

"Yeah. Well, they sincerely like my work. And money makes my world go round." It was the first time Angelo sounded sincere. "Since the tiny puppet player threw me in the gutter to be left in there, this – you – is the best and fastest way to make money."

o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)

**NCIS Office of Special Projects || Los Angeles**

"Alright, thanks guys."  
>Nell smiled gratefully at Pete Mitchell and Randy Beck, members of one of the other NCIS teams in Los Angeles. They'd just filed a warrant and arrested Gwenny Davis. She would not be in a position to report to Paul Angelo any longer, but perhaps they could make Angelo believe she still was.<p>

Eric beamed his appreciation at his younger and small co-worker. "This is one of the great things of you being a field agent too, partner."

She simply shove back her unwilling hair, nodded towards the screen and continued what they had been doing so far.

"So, when the car stays on this road, it'll end up in—" Eric let his finger go with the road "Melitopol - Heniches'k – Simferopol and finally in Sebastopol." He then looked at Nell. "If Sam would speed up, where do you think they would be able to meet the car, presuming Angelo and Callen are both in there?"

"All hypothetical of course, because we don't know IF Angelo plans to go to Sebastopol." She bit the inside of her cheeks, tilted her head slightly and narrowed her eyes. "But if so, I'd say somewhere between Heniches'k and Simferopol."  
>Nell then looked up and nodded with a smile "Your time to call in, Bartholomew Beale. Inform the others and tell them to hurry."<p>

o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)

**On the road ahead**

No matter what the other man had been talking about, Callen had quickly gone through the names of the members of the Comescu family he knew who weren't around anymore.  
>When Callen and the team came to get Hetty back from Romania, Alexa Comescu– head of the family – died. So did Petr, Vlad and Christo. Then on Hawaii, Dracul Comescu popped up again. Yes, Callen had stopped him from selling the smallpox virus. And true, he shot and killed him, but it was self-defense. Like it had been lately, when Anton and Vasile and some nephews he didn't even remember the names of, had lured him to save the older man who might have been his father.<br>So many Comescus were gone – and Callen was still around. Maybe he shouldn't even blame them for wanting a pay back.

Callen still wished he could convince Angelo to stop what he was trying to do. Yes, it was Angelo he held responsible for this situation, but in a way…  
>What if Hetty hadn't let him walk? What if she had taken different precautionary measures against Angelo, sent him back to office duty? What if Angelo had felt less disrespected, would this all have happened?<p>

Well, there was no use in looking back right now. He needed to think of the best way to get away before it was too late.

o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)

**On the road || in pursuit**

Kensi, like the others in the car, had listened to what Eric had told them. Looking over Sam's shoulder, she worriedly remarked "Do you think this Lada will drive fast enough to ever catch up with the car he's in?"

"We'll have to," Sam said, concentrating on passing another car. Again, he addressed the operations manager through the rear view mirror. "I was thinking what might be special about those cities Eric just mentioned, Hetty?"

Oh, she had her suspicions, her fears. But those were only assumptions. Yet… She sighed deeply.

"Hetty?" Sam pressed.

"He's out in the cold. Alone," she softly spoke. "I shouldn't have gone to see Pyotr. This is all my fault."

Contrary to the goofy words Deeks could throw around, he now calmly said "I don't know who spoke the words 'Don't look back. You're not going that way.' But those words are true Hetty, there's no use looking back. We've got to find a way to get to Callen, in time, and to—"

The older woman interrupted "It's very easy to embark from Sebastopol and sail to Eforie."

Eforie – the place they remembered all too well. The Comescu family used to be based in there. Eforie was the place they all had learned about Callen's first years, the place where they had gotten to Hetty, just in time.  
>Sam sped up a little more. The four of them were quiet for a while. Then Deeks looked up from the small screen of his smartphone. "There's also a ferry service from Heniches'k to Turkey. So, we don't know…"<p>

"We don't, you're right. But taking into account what we've heard before - one and one might be three. There's the files of Keelson, remember?" Kensi said. "It's good to know that Eric and Nell will keep in touch."

Like the two geeks back in Los Angeles, Kensi knew that in fact they all needed the sharp thinking of Callen. They needed him back in charge. His way of briefing, summarizing and deducting was what they lacked right now, especially in this operation. So far the engine ran far from smoothly and Kensi, like the others in the team, had no idea when this would change.

o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)

**On the road ahead**

During the past twenty minutes, none of them had spoken. It helped Callen to clear his thoughts, try and plan.

Like Hetty in the other car, Callen understood about the route from Sebastopol to Romania – the country of the Comescu family. There would be some time left before they reached Sebastopol.

His thoughts were interrupted when the car came to a halt and Boris turned the engine off. Callen looked around. The outskirts of Heniches'k. It was on the town sign, practically next to where the car was parked right now.  
>Perhaps the driver, Boris, was like his name proved to be – boorish, or unprepared. "как нам добраться до улицы Пушкина [How do we get to Pushkin Street]?" he asked, addressing Paul Angelo.<p>

He tensed. This was Heniches'k. And from what Boris said, this was the end-of-the-line. Something Callen did not expect. It made him aware that he would need to get into action immediately.

The car didn't have an automatic navigation device and Angelo took his phone, typed some things and let his index finger go over the screen. He showed the driver who then nodded.  
>This was it.<br>At the very moment Boris was about to turn the key, Callen shot forward and grabbed Angelo from behind, wrapping and hooking his right arm under Angelo's chin and around the neck. He knew this wasn't the way to get out of this situation. In fact, Callen knew his chances of getting away were reduced the moment Angelo had used the child's lock in the car.

Paul Angelo struggled hard and Callen simply knew he wouldn't win this fight. Not like this, not in here.  
>But he got what he wanted.<br>That was a mere second before Boris used the back of his gun and hit Callen on his head. It made him fall back in the seat hard, almost passing out. He felt how a trace of blood trickled down his temple. Callen closed his eyes for just a minute, then blinked his eyes to get rid of short blackout.

Boris restarted the engine, put the car in gear and slowly started driving again. Paul Angelo rubbed his neck several times before he turned around to face his opponent. His eyes, black and all Asian, were hard now, and his face got rigid. His expression was darkly when he said "You're lucky that I have to get you in there alive".

Callen knew he was expendable, like every agent was. But no matter what, he wanted to help his team to get Angelo.  
>And so, he managed to pressing the number he knew by heart on the GPS-enabled smartphone he managed to lift from Angelo's left pocket unnoticeably. And he knew the code he then entered, would reach his partner. The 'agent-in-distress'-code. If it were in time or not, Callen did not know.<p>

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><p><em>Thank you all for reading. As ever, your reviews and thoughts are very welcome!<em>

**Disclaimer** No need to explain once again that CBS and Shane Brennan are the ones that own the real thing. In here, I'm just using the main characters and made up a story to share with you.

**A/N** I do not speak or write Russian, not at all! So all I do is use Google Translate, so please forgive me for any grammatical errors.


	13. Chapter 13

**Chapter 13**

**Detour**

* * *

><p>AN Maybe there's a large 'oops' when you understand this is the penultimate chapter in this storyline. Yes, it is…

* * *

><p><span><strong>Heniches'k<strong>

So far, this was all what he could do. Callen pretty well knew that Sam would contact the juniors at the Los Angeles' office. Just as well as Callen trusted Eric would be able to locate the GPS of this phone easily from now on.  
>Sure, if the wiz kids found out about Gwennie already, they might know about this phone as well. But that was just hoping, and from now on he simply KNEW that they knew.<p>

As unnoticed as possible, he let the phone slid on the floor and shove it further to the front with his right foot. If Angelo would notice he missed it, he might assume he dropped it himself during the short fight.  
>Callen sighed deeply. His whole body still hurt and the blow on his head kept making his vision blurry until he could blink it away. Still, he assumed it had been worth it. Hetty needed to be the one to stop Paul Angelo indeed. Whether or not he would be transported to Romania was something he needed to deal with himself.<p>

o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)

**On the road ahead**

His size 12 ½ right foot pressed the gas pedal as hard as possible. However, the yellow Lada wasn't going any faster than it did already. "Crap, this thing wants to let us down," Sam muttered. He was about to swear aloud, although that did not fit his usual calmness and he realized Hetty would not appreciate it at all.

"But you háve to speed up Sam!" Kensi nearly commanded. "Eric just texted that the distance indicator at Ops says we're still 40 minutes behind. And there's been no movement during the past 10 minutes."

Having said that, her phone chirped – the sound of another text message. She looked up. "It's on the move again," she read aloud. Meanwhile, her mind was going over what might have happened in these 10 minutes.

o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)

**Pushkin Street || Heniches'k**

Callen felt exhausted, both physical as mentally. He realized that for the time being, there was no quick escape. He kept his gaze fixed on the road. It was easy, because Boris was now driving the grey car slowly along the long street that paralleled the coastal line. Paul Angelo's phone had showed both men the right address.  
>First, they passed some luxury hotels, but soon the buildings changed. Terraced houses with flaking mint-green plasterwork. Some looked neglected. Then there were the buildings that were completely abandoned. Some of them were workshops, which reminded Callen of the ones in Eforie.<br>Last came the detached houses that once had been built for the wealthy inhabitants of this town, but most of them now looked neglected, unoccupied too.

Boris' head was slightly nodding, counting the numbers. Then he made the car come to a halt and addressed Angelo: "это правильный адрес [this is the right address]", he said.  
>"Оставить его на дороге [Park it on the driveway]," Angelo ordered, gesturing to the left. Boris did as he was asked, then turned the ignition off and leaned back in his chair.<p>

A sly smile appeared on Angelo's face as he now turned to Callen. "Ready for the next move, partner?"

He did not respond - there was no need to. Again, Callen reminded himself that all he could and should do was to win time. Time would be all that the others, Sam, or Deeks and Kensi, would need to keep tracking, following and catching up on the GPS.  
>"Callen?" Angelo repeated. This time he held a gun in his hand and aimed it at Callen. "You're going to do exactly what I say. Boris will have his gun pointed on you as well. And he will shoot if you don't follow my orders. You get that?"<p>

Callen hummed in confirmation.

Paul Angelo continued. "Now, I get up, and then I get out. And when my door closes, I'll open yours. You're going to get out, slowly and hands first."

His mind was in a whirl, wondering if he was going to ignore the man's monologue and annoy Angelo. Instead, Callen responded "I see you're still scared I'm going to defeat you, Angelo. Now, this is why—"  
>Callen's words were lost by a whack on his chin. It hurt like hell, and he moaned shortly. Then he looked up and sent one of his famous smirks to the other man.<p>

"Out now. Hands above your head." Angelo now snarled at him, his eyes blank and black in anger. Still, Callen noticed his plan worked.  
>Paul Angelo opened the car door, his feet spread and his knees slightly bent, his gun drawn. "Now, start walking and keep walking until I tell you to stop. And remember I'll be right behind you – 10 feet. I know damn well how you work, Callen. Keep in mind that this time, I'll be the one in charge."<p>

Callen did what Angelo asked. He felt more shaky than he could remember, yet he did his utmost to hide it. He stretched and slowly raised his hands, which made his shoulder hurt even more.  
><em>'Five minutes won<em>,' he told himself as he slowly started to walk towards the pale blue house.

"I did tell you about Nicolae, didn't I?"  
>Callen knew Paul Angelo was simply talking to him just to let him féél he was the one in charge. He stopped walking. "Keelson told you about Nicolae. You simply used his files."<p>

'_Another two minutes'  
><em>He didn't really need to know Angelo's thoughts. Instead he added the remark "You know the Comescu family is smart. They may outsmart you too."

There was a loud huff behind him, one that made him wonder if Paul Angelo really understood who he was dealing with. "Keep walking Callen," Angelo ordered.  
>He slowly kept going.<br>"Feel if the door is open. It should be."

Of course it was. Who-ever it was Paul Angelo had contacted, it was someone who planned ahead.  
>"Straight through the hallway now."<p>

'_The phone is still in the car. Eric will know where we are. He and Nell will tell where Paul Angelo will be.' _He licked his now dry lips as he saw the last door in the hallway, open as well. He halted and wanted to turn around.  
>"Keep going Callen." Angelo still was about ten feet behind him. Too far away to fight down his opponent.<br>He breathed in and slowly let the air escape through his nose – ready or not to face the ones whose family had sworn an oath of vengeance, declared a blood feud, against his family. Against him, the last Callen.  
>He figured there was about one more day till he'd meet all the Comescus on their own territory – Eforie.<p>

He entered the practically empty room. The sunlight burst through the high and curtainless windows, making him squint his eyes slightly.  
>A young man leant on the side of the table, a small suitcase on that same table next to him. He was dressed in a neat, marine blue blazer with a white shirt and a pair of jeans. A smirk appeared on his face when he saw how Callen entered, Angelo following. In a thick accent he said "I see you kept your side of the promise. Good."<p>

Paul Angelo never let his attention slip. "Callen, five steps to the right," he instructed. "Your hands still where I can see them. Face to the wall."  
>Then, he addressed the other man "Show me your part of the deal, Boaz."<br>The other man got on his feet, put the suitcase flat on the lonely table, turned to it and pressed both buttons on the sides. The case flipped open and the man called Boaz took out a bundle of banknotes and held it up. "One hundred thousand Turkish Liras."

"Like I wanted it. Right. You may put it in again, and close the suitcase," Paul Angelo said, his voice sounding content now. The young man turned to the suitcase again. A fatal mistake.  
>The bullet Paul Angelo fired at him hit him in the back of his head and the body of the man called Boaz slapped forward, then sunk lifeless to the floor.<p>

Alarmed by the gunshot, Callen was about to whirl around. In a matter of one split second there was one loud scream, then two shots, their cracks nearly sounding simultaneously.  
>There was no time and no space for him to dive away - no time to escape from the shot fired at him. All he could do was to try to rotate his upper body. Still, the bullet hit him with a force that made him collapse facedown.<br>'_He shot me in the back. The coward'. _

There were dragging sounds, sobs, groans. Callen did not mind. He needed to concentrate on his own situation now. He tried to breath in deeply and panic flashed in him as he realized his lung collapsed with that single breath already. Then the burning pain set in, together with the feeling of the blood leaking in- and outside his body.  
>From the position he was in, he tried to turn and hoist himself to a sitting position. It caused more pain and he groaned with anguish.<br>Callen forced himself to look down. There was an exit wound in his left side, bleeding profoundly.  
>He wanted to ignore the excruciating pain and he needed to concentrate on his breathing.<p>

The late autumn sun beamed through the high windows, blinding him. All he notices were the contours of a woman, her hair in a ponytail.

"Kenz?" he croaked.

She stepped aside. He blinked his eyes once again. It was clearly not Kensi.

The woman came closer to him, her gun drawn and her eyes teary. The sleeves of the green shirt she wore, were rolled up. On the inside of her left wrist he noticed the sixteen-spoked wheel.

So, Callen braced himself for what was to come.

* * *

><p><em>Like we're holding onto something that's invisible there<em>  
><em>'Cause we're living at the mercy of the pain and the fear<em>  
><em>Until we get it, forget it, let it all disappear<em>

_Waiting for the end to come_  
><em>Wishing I had strength to stand<em>  
><em>This is not what I had planned<em>  
><em>It's out of my control<em>  
><em>Flying at the speed of light<em>  
><em>Thoughts were spinning in my head<em>  
><em>So many things were left unsaid<em>  
><em>It's hard to let you go<em>

[LinkinPark]

* * *

><p>Thank you so much for reading! Your thoughts and reviews are very welcome, as ever!<p> 


	14. Chapter 14

**Chapter 14**

**Detour**

* * *

><p><em>AN The here it is, the last chapter indeed… and things appear to be so bad! I hope you'll enjoy the read once again. Please let me know if you liked 'Detour' as a whole story._

* * *

><p>o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)<p>

**Pushkin Street || Heniches'k**

Romani. It equaled Comescu to him.  
>There was no escape, not in his condition. His ocean blue eyes looked up at her, facing his fate. "Finish it quick, will you…," he gasped.<p>

Thoughts flashed through his head at the speed of light.

The hand with that same wheel with spokes, that handed him a tin soldier.  
>The shot that had killed his mother.<br>The feeling of being unwanted. Being on his own, alone in a far too cold world. No one to be trusted.  
>The shots he had fired in his long career, and the shots that had hit him.<p>

Now there was this gun in the hands of this woman. A member of the family who wanted him dead.

Callen wasn't afraid of dying. But there were those things he regretted.  
>No time left to tell Sam, tell Hetty and the others how he finally felt at ease, at home, welcome and loved, simply feeling accepted the way he was.<br>No time left to take the effort of finding out about his father.  
>No time to wonder if family life would fit him. Family life like Sam and Michelle had. Like he knew there would be for Kensi and Deeks.<p>

Dying in here, alone. Like he had been living alone, far too long.

The woman wiped her left hand over her eyes as she looked down on the severely wounded man. The trace of dry blood on his head, the bandage on his left hand - he had been suffering from more pain and hurt recently.

His eyes mirrored the pain he was in. Despite the dark circles and the lines of pain that were etched on his face, the dark stubble on his face made him look sturdy, interesting in fact. But there was something else she saw. Regrets. A fighter. She'd heard so many things about him.

How he'd come to destroy the family life in Eforie  
><em>'<em>_but hadn't he done that to save somebody else?'  
><em>How he had killed Dracul…  
><em>'<em>_but he let him live during their first meet. And Dracul did so many bad things, killed so many innocent people too…'  
><em>How he wiped away Vasile and Anton. Got Christo and Iorgu behind bars.  
><em>'<em>_but that was because he escaped his own fate of getting killed by Vasile...'_

She looked down at Callen, then made her decision. She put her gun away and scanned the nearly empty room. The white sheets that had been drawn over the sparse furniture were covered with dust, but those were all she had to work with. Pulling one from the nearest chair she quickly folded it.

"Lie still."

Callen didn't realize he had closed his eyes. He now let his eyes dart over her face. The cat-like green eyes, the shape of her face - it reminded him of someone he worked with.  
>Lauren Hunter.<br>In a flash he remembered. "Ilena?" His voice was just a whisper and it made him cough, gasping with the pain it caused. A layer of sweat had covered his forehead. His eyes were red and watery now with the blind pain he was in.

She heard how his breathing now became raspy, shallower than before.

She simply nodded. "Yes."  
>Then she repeated "Try not to move. I'm going to hurt you." The woman acted as quick as possible. Careful, she took an end of the sheet in both hands and put it underneath his head. Then, she pulled it downwards as fast as she could.<p>

o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)

**NCIS Office of Special Projects || Los Angeles**

The tiny red dot started moving again on the large screen in front of them. "Three. And twenty-five more minutes," Eric mumbled.

"What's that about?" Nell asked, concentrating on the files she still had on Paul Angelo.

"The GPS. It remained at this spot for three minutes. Then it changed, some sixty feet further. It stayed in there twenty five more minutes. And now it's on the road again," he explained. "I think we should warn the others."

The petite information analyst bit her lower lip, pondering over what her partner just said. "Did you find out more about the location?"

Eric nodded. "Looks like an ordinary street. Detached houses, blablabla."

A short but grim smile appeared on the tiny woman's face. "Inform the others to hurry and check that location rather than trying to catch up with the phone's GPS. If they want to know why – call it gut feeling."  
>She knew Sam would always trust that feeling.<p>

o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)

**Previously - Pushkin Street || Heniches'k**

It hurt like hell and Callen frantically tried not to scream. He let out some loud groans and nearly fainted.

As fast as she could, Ilena pulled the ends of the sheet together as tight as she could and tied them together. It should protect him of more air entering the space near his lunge, and hopefully stop the bleeding too. But he needed medical help, soon, she knew."

"Baby-brother. I used to call him baby brother," she started explaining. "Nicolae is now head of the family. And I—" she sniffed and wiped away some tears again. "Last month I came over for to visit Europe for a while. Boaz agreed on joining me when I'd fly back to Venezuela. He had enough with the violence, with breaking the law. We decided to keep it quiet for the others, for the familia. But Nicolae… Perhaps he sensed something. He ordered Boaz to accompany you to Romania. I came with him. Just because. Well, Nicolae didn't trust you. And Boaz knew how to kill, knew how to behave like a Comescu."

Callen heard her talking, tried to concentrate. "How. Why you."

She turned away from him and took a cell phone from her jeans. There was not a word he tried to follow from the conversation she had. He just listened to the rhythm of her voice. Sad, yet determined.

_'Baby brother. She just called you baby brother.'_  
>Sadness came over him when he remembered how he learned more about his sister. From the oblivion of a shared history to memories that popped up in matter of seconds, then the realization she was gone forever.<br>Like Ilena's memories of a beloved one were halted in this empty room.  
>Like Callen was aware of the fact that perhaps his own memories might stop in here forever too.<p>

Then, Ilena was back with him. "I wanted to help him. His last big test for the familia. And Nicolae warned Boaz about you."  
>She saw how he struggled with processing the information, the situation. "Yes. I would probably have killed you if you were to hurt Boaz." Her voice sounded softer when she continued. "Now I doubt it. No, I'm sure I wouldn't… This whole thing, this vendetta, it's getting us nowhere."<p>

She squatted next to him, her back against the wall.  
>"All my life, I never wanted to have anything to do with the nasty business aunt Alexa got the family in. And look where it took me. Where it took you. I never wanted this." Again, she paused. "I called for a Medicom ambulance. They'll arrive soon."<p>

"Then go, Ilena, leave," he panted. He needed to close his eyes for just a while. Maybe the pain would go away.

She noticed how he was slowly slipping into a state of unconsciousness. His blood pressure probably had dropped already. Callen was not sure if it was her cool hand on his face. It might be a cool breeze instead. He faintly heard some words "Fight. Survive."

Then, all got silent in Callen's world. And dark.

o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)

**Pushkin Street || Heniches'k**

All tensed, he applied the handbrake of the yellow car and watched the house on the left. Sam sighed deeply. This was the place Eric had guided them to. All the way from Los Angeles he told them where to go, which turn to take. Then, Sam sighed deeply. As for now, he was the agent in charge, he addressed the others. "You all still got your weapons?"

Deeks nodded, taking his gun from behind his back. "Put my baby right where it belongs."

Kensi simply held up the gun she had put in her loose booth.  
>"Really? You know you might've shot your own foot, right?" Deeks twaddled. "Not to mention the bullet might hit something underneath the car—"<br>"Well, Mr. Deeks, at least it was ready to be drawn whenever necessary," Hetty came to her help. "Now, if you all are ready, I would advise we give it a go."

It made Sam look up, understanding that she was going to take over charge. "Right. Let's go." He opened the car door and managed to get his feet out first. Stiffly he stood up, immediately alert though. All was quiet, no sign of inhabitants, no car, nothing at all. He signed at the others like they always did. He held two fingers up, mentioning at Kensi and Deeks that they should take the back door. Then, he looked at Hetty and gently nodded at her. "Ready for some action?" he asked her.

Her arms straight, next to her petite posture, she looked up at him, pursed her lips shortly, took the knife that Kensi had handed her and responded "Ready to roll, Mr. Hanna."

The unlikely pair of partners hurried over the driveway, Sam always in the front, because no matter what, he was shielding their tiny boss. Getting into the house was easy enough – the front door was ajar. He signed to halt at the older woman. Then, carefully, with his weapon continuously ready, he pushed the door further open.

From farther away, he heard how his younger partners already were inside as well. Their 'clear!' sounded one by one.

Then, in the dark hallway, there was an even darker outline of a person, lying on the floor. Again, Sam signed to wait, wanting to check the situation himself.  
>He huffed loudly when he recognized the man. "Angelo."<p>

Behind him, he heard how Hetty slowly breathed out and stepped aside the large Navy Seal. "So… Pyotr. We meet again. I see you've met someone of a different caliber."

He hissed in pain, still angry: "You took all that I had, my life. So I took what is most precious in yours, Hetty. That hurts, right?"

Before there was a chance to respond, he heard Deeks yell "Sam, Hetty, in here!"

Then Hetty knew that things had gotten from bad to worse. Sam was already there where she wanted to be – close to the man she considered as the son she never had. And things had gotten from worse to worst – the agent in charge lay on the ground, partly slumped to the wall, unresponsive and with too much blood leaking through a white cloth pulled around his torso. His left hand, also covered in a dirtier cloth, rested on the bloody bandage.

Kensi, paler now, got up from a squatting position. "He's alive. Cold though, and his breathing's to shallow."

"But he got to this one first," Deeks said as he got closer to the other man.  
>Kensi joined her partner, knowing Hetty and Sam were the ones closest to Callen, and knowing there was nothing they could do right now, right here. She shook her head and pointed at the head wound. "No way. Not Callen's way of shooting. Besides, he did not have any weapons."<br>She took her phone and took some pictures, then pressed the send-button, adding some words. "Eric and Nell might find out more."

"Angelo did this." Hetty's voice sounded frail now.

Sirens came closer and Sam calmly said "Listen, we've got a crime scene in here, with one dead person and two severe wounded. We're not the ones to explain what happened. All the authorities will notice is a group of four, all four armed and foreigners."

"Our first covers won't withstand," Kensi understood.

Sam nodded. This was not what he envisioned, nor what he really wanted, but she was right. "We need to go and wait outside. Perhaps we can follow the ambulances. Deeks, you check with Eric if he can do that," he decided. Worried for his partner he added "We need to stay close to Callen."

o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)

**8 days later || Medicana International, Ankara || Turkey**

He faintly picked up some words. "Fighter - Survived."  
>Callen blinked his eyes several times.<p>

The sunlight came streaming in the room he was in right now. The bare and pale yellow walls made everything look like in a harsh glare, blinding him. He desperately wanted to close his eyes again, until his gaze fell on the outline of a female right in that light, her hair in a ponytail.

"I'm so sorry, Ilena. You have to leave now."

His voice sounded raspy and unexpected and Kensi looked up, surprised by the words as well as with the sudden way Callen spoke. She observed him for just some seconds, without responding. He still looked so vulnerable – and his eyes were closed again.  
>She didn't understand.<p>

However, there was a sharp inhale of breath which sounded behind her.

"Hetty?"

The older woman shook her head. "Not now dear. I suggest you inform Mr. Hanna and Mr. Deeks that Mr. Callen in here is finally waking up."  
>She smiled politely at the younger agent, one of the people she loved dearly. Again, Hetty admired how Kensi was concerned about the others of her team.<p>

So far, she, nor the others, had any clue what had happened in the house in Heniches'k. But by these few first words Callen had spoken, things changed.  
>This, however, was something that she couldn't share with the people of her team. This was something Henrietta Lange needed to check and deal with herself.<p>

o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)

**_Previously_**

It had not been difficult to find out where the ambulance was going. And it had not been that difficult for director Vance to decide that staying in the Ukraine was far from safe for a group of American agents. However, getting the lead agent transported to a safer location had been something that needed careful planning.  
>His condition did not allow flying back to Los Angeles, not yet.<p>

After the first critical days, in which a chest tube was necessary to re-expand Callen's lung, Hetty had Vance arrange a helicopter transport to Turkey.

Now all they could do was wait.

o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)

**Medicana International, Ankara || Turkey**

"You wanna share?" he asked.  
>The blue eyes, still not as bright as they used to be, glanced at the large man. "Share what?" Callen asked, reserved.<p>

This happened so many times. The gentle brown eyes of the large man did recognize the behavior. "Right. Forget I even asked G." Then, curious if Callen even knew all what had been going on, Sam added "Did Eric tell you he lost track of Angelo?"

Eric had and it was something that bothered Callen more than he wanted to show. "You think he's back in Russia?" Callen asked. "There was this man—"  
>"Roslare," Sam interrupted. "We've met. Yeah, Hetty arranged a ticket for the man to join his family in Northumbria. He should be safe, buddy."<br>In a way it didn't surprise Sam that Callen was worried about other people.  
>Both men were quiet for a period.<p>

"You should call Mich, tell her we're getting back tomorrow," Callen suggested. Minutes before, Hetty had told them about it. Deeks and Kensi were already in the hotel, packing.  
>There was nothing wrong with the words the younger man just spoke, yet Sam simply sensed there was something Callen refused to share. Something that might shed a light on whatever it was that he'd gone through. Slowly, Sam rose to his feet. "Be right back, buddy."<p>

Callen heaved a sigh and closed his eyes for just a second.  
>"She's arrived safely in Southern America, Mr. Callen."<p>

There wasn't the slightest hesitation in the words that were spoken. "How did—" He didn't finish his sentence. Of course Hetty knew. He frowned, then asked "Nell? But if we, if Nell found out, they will too."

Her older hand touched his, firmly yet with affection. A more or less cheeky smile appeared on her face when Hetty replied "They may not, since all that Miss Jones found out, was, how shall I say, altered, moderated, adjusted. Which of course, is what happened Mr. Callen."

There was no need to discuss it. All he did was send her a grateful smile. "Thanks. For all."

She stood up, stretched a bit and turned to the door to leave. "It's about time to go home. This sight-seeing trip wasn't at all what I had expected it to be. You know Mr. Callen, of all the youngsters I trained, there are some who were nearly given up on by whatever system or whatever institute. Others were promising, determined and easy going."

"Like me." He grinned.

"Oh no, you definitely were category 1, Mr. Callen. Yet here we are. With all the detours in your life we end up in here. Saying thank you, while I should be the one to thank you. For coming after me, curious as you are." She saw how he nodded and she continued "Too many times I wanted to give the agents a second chance, or even more. Paul Angelo never wanted to get another chance. He preferred to be jealous, made his decision to sneak out of the system. He hid it quite some time."

"It's not your fault, Hetty."

Her petite arm swayed his way. "This all is, Mr. Callen," she said.

"We all need to get home," Callen answered. "Things may seem differently back there."

She looked away from him, smiled softly and left the room.

o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)

Sam sat in the chair next to his partner's bed. He leaned forward, his elbows on his knees, and watched how Callen wrestled with his socks and shoes. "You need a hand, G?" he asked.

Callen looked up. "Seriously? Now I know it's time you should be home. Bedtime stories, pancake-sessions, plaiting braids early in the morning... I really can't remember any moment you offered to lace my shoes."

"Too stubborn, as ever." Sam responded. Something had changed since the day before, and it was good.

"It's what they call being independent, big guy." Callen said, getting on his feet. "Besides, what if an agent in charge can't even manage this? I mean, I'm the one who wrestles with paperwork and all."

Deep dimples appeared with the broad smile on Sam's face. "Hey G… Remember what you said, coming back from the time in Atlanta? I thought you mentioned something like how you detested to be a desk jockey."

A slow but all to recognizable smirk appeared on his partner's face. "I'll manage. And I trust you'll be the one picking me up next Monday. Unless, of course, you forgot to make all arrangements with the car repair shop?"

He chuckled. It was good to know things would never change, back home.

* * *

><p><em>~the end~<em>

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><p>Thank you for reading and for being so kind to leave a review!<p> 


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